


Because beer goes better with pizza instead of pasta.

by Apulia



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Beer, Comedy, Flowers, Fluff, Germany, Gilbert’s secret diary, M/M, Oktoberfest, Past PruHun, Past Relationship(s), Past Spamano, Prumano - Freeform, Rejection, Romance, it’s actually funny
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-31
Updated: 2020-05-29
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:21:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 40,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23416636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Apulia/pseuds/Apulia
Summary: Gilbert is in love with Feliciano, but when he discovers that the latter has feelings for his brother, which are reciprocated, he tries in every way to get over them.Between the pain of being rejected for the first time and tons of beer, he meets Lovino by pure chance, realizing that beer and pizza are the perfect match.Rate is for language. Includes GerIta, some SpaBel and FrUk, keeping Prumano as main pairing.CURRENTLY ON HIATUS DUE TO PERSONAL REASONS. will be completed anyway!
Relationships: Belgium/Spain (Hetalia), England/France (Hetalia), Germany/North Italy (Hetalia), Prussia & South Italy (Hetalia), Prussia/South Italy (Hetalia)
Comments: 18
Kudos: 65





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this for an Amino request. It was supposed to be a one shot, but I realized it’s better with more chapters.
> 
> P.s always remember this was originally written in Italian and then translated. So, I’m 100% sure that here will be some grammar errors. If you see errors, make me notice so I can correct them!
> 
> I don’t own Hetalia.
> 
> IMPORTANT! Currently on exam session, uploads are rarer. Don’t worry! This fic will be completed and you will get your happy and fluffy ending :)

"So Lovi what we were talking about...oh! Yeah as I told you, Ludwig took me for an ice cream even though it wasn't very good, in fact it tasted like bad milk but I ate it anyway because he offered it to me. And then we went to the Luna Park and he bought me cotton candy..."

"Oh, dear God! How much does he talk? Damn it!" Lovino said to himself. 

He puffed his eyes as he sat at the pizzeria table and watched his brother. Lovino looked absent, his head was to another place; the only thing that still kept him fixed on the surrounding situation and that prevented him from digressing further with his head in the clouds, was the distraction inflicted by his brother, who was gesticulating and talking as fast as a machine gun.

It was obvious that Feliciano was pretty excited, all confirmed further by his sizzling and ringing voice.

Lovino noticed how the German bastard had made him happy even though he offered him a lousy ice cream. Perhaps a shit would have been tastier, but Feliciano appreciated that gesture.  
With his head resting on his hand and his face followed by his classic frown just like always, he nodded mechanically just to give his brother the impression that he was actually listening and paying attention to him.

The guy named Ludwig seemed to be very close with his little brother, even if Feliciano never told Lovino about him. He suspected that there was something between the two of them, that's why for the first time the boy with the coppery curl who used to scream his personal affairs to the whole world, had kept himself quite private leaving a trail of mystery behind himself.  
But to Lovino, the most probable hypothesis was that his brother had not yet had the courage to tell him about his relationship with the German.

He began to brush the edge of the wine glass with his finger, and with tired eyes and eyelids drooping down in boredom, he continued to listen to his brother's spiel, who hadn't hidden even the smallest and least important detail about his fairy-tale day with his lovely potato-eater.

"Gentlemen, your pizzas are ready" Lovino blessed the waiter, who had arrived at exactly the right moment, interrupting the “talkative mode” Feliciano went through.  
Lovino's bored gaze changed: his pupils grew larger, his eyes widened in shock and when he drew his brows together, his forehead automatically wrinkled. He felt frozen, as if someone had just put a gun to his forehead, making him unable to react to what he was seeing.

“For the sake of god! damn, Feliciano! Now that German even influenced the way you eat!" Lovino's nauseated expression fell on Feliciano's pizza. t would have been a normal Margherita like his own, but instead he found that the pizza was ruined by lousy pieces of frankfurters on it.

Lovino thought it was too much. Biting his fingernails with his eyes peeling out in anxiety, he imagined what it would be like to live together with a Feliciano who drank tons of beer, who ate pasta with ketchup or sausage.  
Sooner or later his brother would have forgotten the elegant and pleasant taste of wine, able only to recognize the acid and piss taste that characterized that disgusting beer Germans love so much.

"Come on Lovi! They're just frankfurters! Besides, it's Ludwig's favorite pizza..." 

"Don't tell me you're into that potato bastard!" 

Feliciano's cheeks who were as round as his face, were covered with a veil of redness. His eyes shone, and the field of red poppies on his face extended to the tips of his ears.  
The older Italian noticed how his brother's legs had become as soft as spaghetti, the index fingers of both hands rubbing against each other, all followed by a slight embarrassed giggle, which he hid by placing a hand on his lips that looked like rose petals.

He gouged out his eyes, and an occult force took his hand as a hostage, making it tremble nervously to the rhythm of his foot slamming to the ground.  
Damn it, he knew! The stupid bastard brainwashed his brother, he knew it from the moment he saw what his brother was eating with taste.

Lovino's natural frown softened, almost fading away and giving way to a honeyed but confused expression, and his beautiful green gems were moving around always looking at different subjects, as if they were looking for an answer in their surroundings.

"Lovi, what's that face? Look, if you don't want me to go out with him, I can always refuse."

"What the fuck! Do you think I care of who you go out with, who you fuck or who you get engaged to?" He paused and took a deep breath. "If you're happy, than so am I."

He crossed his arms and immediately looked away from his brother, trying to hide his visibly embarrassed expression because of the phrase that was a bit too sweet and understanding by his standards.

"Aw Fratello! How nice of you!" Feliciano was daydreaming, and his face radiant. He knew how much his brother loved him, how much he would give his life for him, but he never expected such hasty and sincere approval.

"Of course, if he even touches you with a finger, I'll break it and I’ll break his face too" and there he is, he was back to his old self in less than a minute. 

He slammed his fist on the table, shaking the pile of wood and everything on it; after having taken on the expression of a lion ready to tear to pieces whoever had come under fire at that moment, he recomposed himself by adjusting his tie and clearing his voice with a few coughs, returning to his usual frown. 

His threatening voice however slightly upset Feliciano, who, thinking of a possible quarrel between his brother and Ludwig, could not help but reveal a loud laugh that attracted the intrigued glances and the serpentine words of the whole place.

"But I swear, if you start preferring sausage to pasta, I'll kill you too, with my bare hands!" He turned again in front of Feliciano, pale and visibly nervous while biting his tongue, which at that moment was a sponge full of the worst insults in case of need.

"But Lovi! How could you ever think such a thing?" Feliciano put his hands forward, reassuring his brother.

Lovino shrugged his shoulders. Not that he really cared about what his brother could eat, but since he still lived at home with him he had to eat what he decided and prepared lovingly, with no German alternatives or any other types of food.

He put his jacket back on, left the waiter's tip on the table and paid the bill, then politely took his leave and left the place, followed by a jumping Feliciano who would sooner or later explode like a time bomb.

Lovino got into the car rolling his eyes and scratching his head, then got behind the wheel and started driving recklessly, causing an attack of nausea and vomiting to his poor brother. 

"Fratello, I don't feel so good-" Feliciano covered his mouth with his hand, swelling his cheek and getting a dull complexion on his face.

"Damn it, don't throw up in my car or I'll make you eat everything again!" 

Well, not that Lovino's aggressive, rude words would scare Mr. Vomit who was ready to throw up out of his brother's stomach and elegantly spill on his freshly washed, brand-new black mats.  
It wasn't the first time his passengers felt an imminent need to regurgitate, pointing their fingers at the Italian with eyes that looked like oil puddles, repeating to the point of exhaustion how crazy his driving was.

"We're almost there! Hold the hit!" 

And as soon as he got stuck in front of the huge front door of the Vargas’ house, Feliciano jumped out of the car running towards the bathroom, spilling everything.  
Lovino stood on the threshold of the door with his arms folded, while with an arched eyebrow, he paid so much attention to his brother that someone who had seen him might have thought he was counting his brother's regurgitation drops.  
"Tsk. You are exaggerated!" He exclaimed, disappointed.

"It's because you drive like you're in the jungle!" 

"No, that's because the bastard's ice cream got on your stomach!" 

"But everyone says you're a bad driver!"

"everyone who? Years have passed since I didn't get someone in the car who isn't you!!" 

It was a hard blow for Lovino to admit it, and even if saying those words aggressively might have given his brother the impression that he didn't care, but it wasn't really like that.  
He missed socializing, playing football with friends and drinking a nice Italian red wine in the company of someone different.  
He had reduced almost to 0 any relationship of friendship outside Italy and totally avoided socializing, since when a Spanish bastard had made fun of him, making him suffer like a dog for years. 

That's why he slowly became more aggressive than usual, in order to keep at a safe distance new possible friends but also possible traitors.

He took a deep breath, puffing slightly. Since he had left Italy to move to Germany, he survived instead of living. He was living a life of sufficiency without any comfort.  
He missed the reckless races with his fellow countrymen, or when on hot summer nights the music of some neighbor's radio resounded all over the village, bringing people who wanted to spend a sleepless night while having fun.

His brother was not like that. He loved to socialize, and in Germany he had had the opportunity to do so even more often, attracting the attention of some German curious about the Italian way of life. Feliciano was their storyteller, who spoke to the point of exhaustion.

A nostalgic smile formed on his face. His countrymen were brothers to him, and together they had lived for generations and generations, poverty and misery. they had gone through the worst, and had come out glorious and victorious. and that was for Lovino, a great encouragement that spurred him to fight even when he was weak or was given up.  
he always stood up, struggled with his nails and teeth to get what he wanted, but that was not easy to get because more than a stupid material asset.

The roar of tap water filled the silence. Lovino noticed the look in his brother's eyes, where sadness had taken full possession of his face. 

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Can't I look at you?"

"of course you can look at me, but it wouldn't be the right thing to do now because If you don't clean up quickly, you're going to be late for your afternoon class at school" the elegance, in which Lovino using simple words panicked his brother, was was the most amazing and yet exhilarating at the same time.

His mouth opened wide as did his eyes, Feliciano began to slap himself on the head for forgetting. In a hurry he cleaned everything up, took everything he needed, then rushed out the door waving his hand to greet his brother.

"Do you want me to drive you?"

"No no! I'm going on foot, it's not that far" Feliciano broke out in a cold sweat, and totally liquidated his brother's offer, and then headed for the destination.

Lovino's lips curled in a shy, hasty smile. He looked at his watch: 3 o'clock in the afternoon.  
It was still too early to count the money to see how much he had before the end of the month. The education expenses for Feliciano, who was attending his last year of high school, were the ones that most depleted his salary, and despite the state's financial aid, he was hardly able to stay away from being broke.

He sat on the deckchair in the enormous balcony, lighting up a cigarette to relax while contemplating the noise of silence, which would soon be replaced by the rustling of the paper, the ticking of the clock and the sound of the keys on the calculator.

///

"So, how'd it go with the little Italian?" Gilbert noticed a glow coming from Ludwig's always serious and apparently inexpressive face.

Gilbert knew about his date with Feliciano, and although he knew he had to be happy for his brother's conquest, he was ashamed and dirty in feeling big jealousy towards him.

It had been months since when he tried in every way, even the most trivial and annoying one, to gain Feliciano's attention.  
If we really want to be precise, he had obtained it, but not in the way he would have hoped: simply, Feliciano did not have a romantic interest in him but considered him just a good friend.

Ludwig, in a way, had stolen him from himself.  
Gilbert had invited Feliciano to their home, trying to make him part of his daily life and introduce him to his brother. But everything did not go according to his plans: he could read in his brother's eyes his interest in the Italian, and when both their cheeks were painted a slight shade of red, Gilbert realized that Feliciano preferred the other German.

And as he watched them from the kitchen while cuddling his little bird, he tough how the three could have fun drinking a nice beer all together  
But unlike his imagination, if such a thing could ever happen, he would not be the one in pairs: he would simply identify himself as the intrusive drunkard on duty, who didn't even care to get in his brother's way for pure personal satisfaction.

"Uh, it went well, thank you." Ludwig clarified his throat, trying to deal with the embarrassment. He had never spoken to his brother about his love life. "I took him to Hans Eiscafé for ice cream."

"Oh, Ludwig! It's not awesome or smart to bring an Italian to Hans!" Gilbert looked at him with his mouth open. His brother had made a big mistake. Bringing an Italian to Hans was tantamount to death. Their ice cream was good for the Germans, who had rarely tasted the real Italian homemade one, otherwise Gilbert was sure that if they did, they too would have felt slightly disgusted by Hans’.

Rule number 8 of dating Italians: If you want to impress an Italian by making him eat Italian food, make sure it is really Italian.

Gilbert had learned many things from his many experiences with Italian girls even before he met Feliciano, and he knew that this place meant the end of your dating before it even started, so it had to be avoided like it was the plague.

He noticed how his brother was inexperienced, and if a voice in his head told him that their relationship would end immediately and that he, unlike his brother, would make Feliciano happy being the king of sex and romance, the voice of his conscience told him that wanting to hurt his brother and wish him any kind of failure, was not awesome.  
Nor was it a thing for awesome people.

"Well, I figured it out late... I noticed the disgusted look on his face even though he tried to hide it, so to make it up to me I took him to the carnival and I think he had fun?" Ludwig looked at his brother with an air of questioning, hoping for his opinion, but the latter shrugged his brother's shoulders and categorically avoided helping him.

"I hope so for you!" He lifted his fingers up in the air, crossing them, and then swooped onto the sofa and grabbed the remote control to begin an intense, boring continuous zapping between the channels.

"You should stop acting like a child, because you're 20 years old. It's certainly not my fault if he doesn't feel the same way about you."

Gilbert froze, turning to his brother and grimacing at him, intended to annoy his younger brother.

"Well, I would certainly have had a different reaction if it hadn't been my brother who had stolen him." Ludwig was quite hurt by those words, but he did not convey a single sign of weakness. He knew that in these situations Gilbert was at his worst, because he was not used to rejection. He was the one who drew the two spades, and it was the first time he was on the side of making people suffer.

He wasn't mean, he didn't do it on purpose. He simply never felt any real interest in anyone other than Feliciano. He liked to spend a nice evening with beer and flirting.

He thought they were all looking for fun. Ludwig knew that Gilbert would one day love so much that he could not distinguish colors, he knew he would love so much that he would forget the days and hours, he knew he would love just so much.

And it made his heart cry to see him like that. He wanted to do something, but he didn't know what. He needed someone with whom he could totally express himself without feeling judged, because even strong people like Gilbert needed to feel loved, they just couldn’t count on themselves forever. He needed someone who would make him laugh even in tears, he needed someone who would give his heart to him not asking for anything in return.

with each passing day, he was more and more alone. He had been pushing and pushed away had since when someone called him the a player.  
Every day he got sadder, Ludwig knew he was trying to get by on his own and get by; Ludwig heard him crying in his room in the middle of the night, crushing his head in the pillow, hoping that it would somehow lessen his tears.  
He spent his whole days playing video games, working out at the gym and getting drunk with friends, and maybe even something more.

With a serious face, Ludwig knew that the only one who could wake his brother up was him. He probably shouldn't have hung out with Feliciano to not upset his brother, but at the same time he knew that even if he was immersed in the deepest pain, it would do him good and spur him on to become the best version of himself, someone more...awesome.

"Instead of just sitting on the couch on your stomach, you could be doing something more productive, couldn't you?"

"Cut it out, Ludwig! You were just lucky, don't think you're better than me!"

"I don't think I'm better than you, Gilbert. I just want you to be happy, the sea is full of fishes and I'm sure you'll find someone else."

"Easy to say if you have already taken the best one!" Gilbert's angry voice tone was in perfect contrast with Ludwig's rigid one.

"It's not what you think, Gilbert. If you don't search, you don't find."

"You know what Ludwig? your philosophical and heartwarming phrases are driving me nuts." He mimed a touched expression. "I am not the one who seeks, I am the one who is sought."

"Then why are you alone?"

"Ludwig, you're really mad at me today, huh?" He grunted, slammed the TV remote control on the floor and snapped off the couch to face his brother.  
He gnashed his teeth and gritted them, while his mouth twitched and his brows snapped together.

"You don't have always to throw everything at me! I'm so damn awesome and you have no right to make me feel like the worst piece of shit." He started pointing his index finger at Ludwig's chest, but the young man's impassive gaze made Gilbert jump on his nerves, who took his jacket and slammed the door after leaving the house.

Ludwig stood there. It could seem like he was emotionless, but he felt just too bad for him to even react. He was froze, reading disperation in his brother eyes. Nobody deserved that. He looked at the door and heard his brother's expletives in the background.  
He was behaving like a child, and Ludwig regretted having been so hard and insensitive to his brother, even though he knew in the deep of his heart that he had done the right thing.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eek, sorry if this is shitty :(  
> Also, if you find errors, tell me!  
> I promise the next chapter will be better!  
> Thanks for the kudos and hits!

"Lovi, I'm home!" 

Lovino replied with a nod, stuck in a world of calculations and sheets of paper that smelled of new. He loved the smell of paper and fresh ink.  
He would have preferred, however, that paper and ink to be used in a better way, for example they would have been pages of the best Italian cookbooks or the most tearful romantic novels.

He loved to read, it was one of his greatest passions. He was literally crazy about love stories and romance based movies, although he tended to hide his novels under the bed to prevent his brother from finding them by chance in one of his maniacal cleaning sessions, which were only intended for Lovino's room. 

Feliciano had never cleaned in his life, so it didn't take Lovino too long to realize that his only purpose was to pry into his private life, trying to discover some juicy secret about him, since according to Feliciano, Lovino kept himself too reserved about his life and should have shared with him some more spicy or personal aspects.

From Lovino's mouth in such cases, more insults came out than usual and the young man assiduously wondered where his brother had learned never to mind his own business. Then he remembered his grandpa and understood where his brother's dowry came from. 

Though he passed away more than a year ago, Lovino still remembers when the bastard read his secret junior high school diary, finding out all about dating a girl from his own class.  
Every word was a dig, and every time he looked in the mirror he saw fiery red cheeks, so red that he thought that if he touched them with even the tip of his finger, he would burn himself. 

He weighed it on him for days, but those days became weeks and then months. 

And from there, no more secret diaries and shit like that. But not because he was carrying around the trauma of childhood, but simply because there was nothing more interesting to tell or write.

Oh God, Lovino at that moment would have wanted to replace that pile of useless paper in a nice book to read, which would take him away from the nightmare of reality for a moment and make him live any adventure of his choice.  
A historical book? Bollocks, too boring. A science fiction book? No shit, too unrealistic.

Maybe a good horror book would have been perfect. One that freezes all the blood in your body and makes your skin crawl.  
The cards attesting the absence of money, the non-payment of rent, the lack of contributions to pay, the bills to pay that he had been dragging around for months, could become like the scariest horror book he had ever read, and with him as the protagonist.

The sweat gurgling from his forehead and the desperation that assailed his soul were his own, not the one’s of any character who found himself in a house haunted by ghosts or spirits and such entities.  
"Are you hungry?" His brother asked inncocently, who despite not having received an answer, was already at the starting line to make a good pasta with sauce.

Lovino shook his shoulders and then put out his cigarette by rubbing it in the ashtray, forgetting for a moment how much it had relaxed him.  
He took off his glasses, which had already given him a strong headache, and put his sweaty hands on his meninges, massaging them gently.

"No. I think I'm gonna take an aspirin and go to bed, I have to wake up soon tomorrow and I'm tired, with a bad, fucking headache. Oh, and don't put your hands on my shit, stay away from it," he warned, staring at his brother, who was already looking curiously at that pile of white paper scattered on the kitchen table. 

"All right Lovi! Can I at least tidy it up a little bit?"

"do whatever you want." 

And in no time at all, Feliciano went through the paperwork at the precise moment when his brother disappeared on the second floor of the house.  
He resisted the temptation to start looking through and reading every single printed word. He had promised his brother he wouldn't look, and so he wouldn't. 

Not even if the temptation was strong and the devil told him to take one by one those damn piles of paper, and try his hand at the best reading he had done in his entire life.  
Also because the only book Feliciano had ever read was in elementary school. 

He much preferred movies, because it seemed to him that they could immerse him fully because it was happening, and then he didn't have to get too tired reading and losing track of the pages, or worse still, trying to translate the ones that were too difficult.

He gently took the paperwork, formed a pile and placed it on the table in a surprisingly tidy way.

Feliciano huffed a little, worrying about the reason his brother was always so busy lately, that he had begun to neglect himself and what he liked to do.  
It was a long time since I'd seen him spray his favorite perfume, take a long bath with salts to make the water smell good, curl his hair, dress fine and stylish.

He looked at the plate of pasta in an inexpressive way, not typical of his way of doing it. He bent his head slightly to the left, and with a live grudge, he pushed away the plate of spaghetti that had only been the object of a few small forks.

He didn't feel like eating anymore. He felt like he was living on his brother's shoulders. He was 18 years old and had no independence, no job and no place to live.  
He would have liked to be like Ludwig, Independent at a young age, and everyone was proud of him.

Feliciano realized how Germany had changed Lovino, making him more and more like the typical German stereotype. He had become a slave to his work, and Feliciano knew how hard his brother was working to allow that plate of pasta he was eating to be there at that moment.

///

"Come on amigo, don't be sad! You got better things to think about, right?" Antonio exclaimed, giving a friendly punch to Gilbert's shoulder, trying to cheer his dull and sad face.

Gilbert turned towards Antonio, striking him with his gaze and threatening him with his crimson eyes.  
"You..." he looked at him, slightly lowering his head as he turned to him. "You... do you know what it feels like to be rejected?" He teased him annoyingly, touching his chest with his finger, almost painfully.

"And you know what's worse? Being rejected for your brother, who's got a serious ass face and doesn't even know how to properly fu-." 

"Enough mon cher, I think you're exaggerating" Francis slapped his hand on his friend's mouth, plugging it and preventing the worst vulgarities from being uttered by his lips.

"I don't care, I just want to drink now!" He tore Francis' hand from his face, rushing over another beer laid on the counter, uncorking it quickly and savoring every single hop.

He was drinking too much beer, so much that he immediately realized how slowly it became more and more disgusting to his taste buds and his stomach, but more and more pleasant to his eyes and soul.

His stomach was literally burning, as was his heart. He didn't care anymore, he just wanted to be able to pass out or something, at least not to feel that excruciating pain penetrating his bones.

He felt relaxed, even as he swallowed what was now for him was pure poison. The feeling of exhaustion, the nausea that slowly took possession of his body, had taken second place.  
It was incredible, to find yourself hating that thing that you had loved terribly for years, but to know that you couldn't do without it.

"Mom ami, cut it out now, you're drinking too much" Francis cast a glance at Antonio, to catch his wrinkled eyebrows in time in a look of disapproval, only to return to look at the German who, with his eyes half closed, kept his bitter breath and his face painted a fiery red.

"Come on, don't be boring! Let me drink!" His voice made his friends shudder. They could grasp the desperation in his tone, although he was visibly penalized by the dehydration to which alcohol had led him.  
Francis didn't wait this time. He took Gilbert forcefully from his back, dropping his beer glass on the floor and breaking the bottles into a thousand pieces, attracting the looks and insults of the club.

"Keep your money and don't complain!" He threw a handful of coins on the counter, with a petty and hurried manner, not even looking the exasperated waiter in the face.

"What a place of drunks! Gilbert, do you really get off on this sleazy, understated place? You may be drunk, but I don't think alcohol can make you so shabby that you'd stay in a place like this!" He asked, but he didn't expect an answer from Gilbert. 

He looked at what his friend looked like. "Well, perhaps you'd be able to pick a place like this when you're perfectly ok..."  
He blew on his topknot, elegantly pulling his hair away from his face with a light touch, dragging the German out of the room.

There was a drunk German, an angry Spaniard and an annoyed Frenchman. It seemed like the beginning of a joke, but it wasn't that funny.

Gilbert threw himself on the steps, and Antonio and Francis took his place next to him, trying to comfort him.

"Gil, you're strong. You'll find someone better who appreciates you." Antonio rubbed his hand on his friend's cold shoulder, giving him some of his warmth. 

"You all say the same thing! But it's so hard for me, you can't understand how much!" He clutched his hair in his hands, trying to hold back the anger that would lead him to commit some crime within hours.

"Amigo, but it's the truth. I thought I'd never find anyone either, but then I found Belle instead and-"

"It's not the same thing! You haven't been rejected!"

"Mon ami, stop being so tragic. Things have to go wrong and then get better. You don't miss anything, just a little bit of... self-control, but then again, you're a good guy."

"Francis... you... would you be my boyfriend?" Gilbert said in a muffled voice, looking at Francis waiting for an answer, that he looked at him shocked and furious.

"What are you talking about, Gilbert!" Francis rolled his eyes. Damn it! The beer had really gone to his head more than he thought.  
He never wanted to be with Gilbert, really. He preferred someone more manageable and not so rebellious.

"Well, I knew it, even my best friend wouldn't-"

"Shut the fuck up! It's five o'clock in the morning, there's people sleeping and working, and you come busting our balls screaming like a hysterical maniac! Nobody gives a fuck about your goddamn business !" Gilbert and his loud voice, were interrupted by a harsh and rude motorbike by the florist who ran the shop next to the bar frequented by him.

"Don't you dare talk to me like that! I'm fucking awesome, I'm the best and-" 

"Nobody gives a shit! Did you hear me?"

"Lovino, please..."

"And you still dare talk to me?"

There you go. In addition to the joke, there was also a grumpy Italian who had started an explicit verbal fight with Gilbert, but who also made Antonio shut up with words followed by a hissing voice, worthy of the worst vipers.

Antonio. His first great love and his first great disappointment. He thought he was the only one in his heart, he thought he was the only one he cared about, and instead? Turns out to be a hobby for him when his ex-girlfriend was away on business trips

"Lovino, please..." 

"Francis, you French bastard, could you tell both your friends to shut up and shut their hellish mouths? Thank you." He gave Antonio a cold, hate-filled look of hatred, and a questioning expression while looking at Gilbert.

Francis looked at the Spaniard, who nodded and bowed his head.

"Francis, did you see that? Look at him," he pointed to Lovino with a trembling arm, "he looks like the one who refused me."

"Oh no Gilbert, please..." too late. Gilbert had rushed on Lovino, saying things like, "Why don't you love me? Why aren’t you with me? Why, tell me why!"

The Italian was horrified. He only thought he was a crazy maniac, even though he should have imagined it from his sharp, bloodshot eyes and his white skin, as if he had been set on fire.  
A grimace of disgust took possession of his face, and pushed Gilbert away from him, who was taken by Antonio's shoulders.

"Lovino...could you...could you keep Gilbert here? We'll call his brother to come and get him as soon as possible."

"Are you crazy? No way! Take him with you, I don't want him!" Lovino refused Francis' proposal in no time at all. Why leave him to deal with that rabid, depraved maniac? That didn’t exist at all! He would have destroyed his shop, causing him thousands of euros of damage he couldn’t afford to use at that very moment.

"Lovino, please -"

"Give me the fucking phone! "I'll call his brother and have him come get him, but you're not leaving and you won't let me look after this crazy nutcase !" He ripped the phone out of Francis' hands, violently.

"What's the crazy man's brother's name?"

"He is memorized as Ludwig."

Ludwig? The same Ludwig? No, it couldn't be true. This psychiatric patient was the brother of the cuddly, loving teddy bear his brother was lost in love with?  
Fuck. He'd have been related to a crazy guy if those two had gotten married. He shook his head, at that moment it was imperative to take the German home and not think about a new family tree.

"Hello? Hi, pick up your brother Gilbert here at the Vargas' florist shop, and hurry up, because he's eating my flowers!" He didn't wait for an answer, quickly knocking down the receiver and then tearing one of his most precious roses from Gilbert's mouth.

"I wanted to dance tango with Antonio-"

The tango with Antonio. Lovino froze for a moment, remembering how much he liked to dance with his beloved in the living room, holding his hand tightly and coordinating their bodies in a sensual and elegant dance. Their breasts rubbing together, full of sweat, their eyes crossing each other and their mouths getting closer and closer until they opened in tender kisses.

The rose. The rose that Antonio, from his mouth, passed gently to Lovino's, protecting with his lips any damage of the thorn on the fleshy and delicate Italian ones.

"You dance it at home, and not with my roses in your mouth!" He recovered and shook his fist gnashing his teeth, entered his shop and left behind the three men who were screaming and smashing his eardrums on a cool and quiet morning in early September. It was the first day he was back to work after his summer vacation, and you could still feel the sea breeze and salt on his tanned skin and hair.

And soon it flew an hour, maybe even two. And when he looked out the door, he saw that the city had come back to life, and the more time went by, the more people came and went.  
He was so caught up in the atmosphere of orderly confusion, he didn't notice that Gilbert and his friends had been gone for quite a while.

He noticed only one thing. His rose, the one Gilbert had in his mouth, had been thrown on the floor in front of his shop.  
He picked it gently, looking at the spoiled and crushed petals. Gilbert hadn't even had the decency to put it back in its place, but just as he was thinking how it could give her a new life, he pricked himself with a thorn.

"Damn it! Shitty rose!" 

That was a proof that the most beautiful things can hurt you, and sometimes it was better to let them go and throw them in the trash.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before we start, I just want to to thank everyone for kudos, hits, and comments. Thank you so much! You keep me writing more. <3  
> Also you already know, translation might not be perfect.

"Gilbert, look at you..." Ludwig's muffled, calm voice turned to his brother who, white as milk, seemed endlessly busy moving about on the couch, in search of a pleasant position to suppress his hangover headache. Ludwig's gaze was filled with disappointment, sadness. It was excruciating pain to see his brother so distraught with suffering that it made him so dull and beggarish.

The guy did not listen, for him Ludwig's voice at that moment was comparable to an annoying buzz.  
He looked at him, clutching his red eyes as if he were trying to peer at his brother's soul, but then he twisted his nose and bent his head, bursting into a disgusting and disturbing laughter followed by coughing blows full of phlegm, which echoed powerfully in the red-walled room.

"Gilbert, what did you do again? How much did you drink?" They were silly questions to ask, and Ludwig knew that. But to be honest, he didn't see this as a complete waste of time. He wanted to have a conversation with his brother, who, though drunk, was sure he was going to tell him something.  
Sober he wouldn't have done that, not yet. He was so angry with him, that he was sure he wouldn't talk to him for days or weeks, because of his enormous pride and habit of never being the one to apologize.

It was a downside of Gilbert, to think that he was always right and never the one at fault. Ludwig admired his great self-esteem and his innate confidence, but sometimes he understood how excessive and potentially harmful it was for him in some situations.

when they were small, Gilbert had always been quite touchy.  
Even though after puberty he had begun to change radically from the point of view of touchiness, and learned how to replace it with a big laugh, it was clear that he still couldn't stand it when someone would go against him or offend him as a joke.  
And it was here where he could not handle his anger and contempt, causing him to act impulsively, raising his hands or offending the person concerned; and even if he felt offended, he didn’t forget to point out endlessly how awesome he was, unlike the others.

Although he was a quiet, calm man who kept his distance from any risk of quarreling, he too had the honor and misfortune to quarrel with Gilbert.  
When they quarreled, he felt lost in the middle of a dark cul-de-sac; Although he was the one who lit his brother's path, he felt he could never have done it without him because they needed each other.  
He thought that once he grew up, he would never feel that inner emptiness again, but instead he realized that with Gilbert there was no unpleasant situation destined to be the last one.

"I drank just a little bit, come on! Not so much, just a little bit," he accompanied the nauseating words with a wave of his hand, bringing his thumb and forefinger together without letting them join, to indicate the amount of beer he had taken.

Ludwig rolled his eyes taking his brother's hand and showing him how close he was, but from the albino's expression of contrariety, he noticed with regret that although he was drunk, he had not forgotten about the fresh September-morning quarrel.

"Gilbert..."

"Shut up and leave me alone for a second! Go to your boyfriend!" He moved his hand, chasing Ludwig away like a fly, puffing rudely.

"Gilbert, you're going to have to cut it out. You're behaving like a child."

"You always say the same thing, and fine I'm a kid then! But I don't steal almost-boyfriends from other people!" 

"Enough of this! Besides, that doesn't justify harassing people who look like him!" 

Ludwig had literally lost his patience, and was amazed by that. He had kept a cool head in the most stressful and worst situations, but he realized that it was impossible for him to remain calm and quiet when he was accused of crimes that were reflected in his love life, which had been non-existent for years.  
He clenched his fist trying to keep his nerve, but the nervousness that held him hostage was impossible to stop.

His angelic, sculpted face was now angular, with wrinkled eyebrows and eyes that burned like fire.  
He would bite his lip aggressively, trying to hold back any violent reaction.

Gilbert froze for a moment, diverting his attention from his brother's ramblings and bringing it back to what he had just said. He knew of the unfortunate incident with the florist the night before.

Oh, boy. How did he know about that? It was impossible. He wasn’t there at the time. She didn't know that bar or that florist. He didn't know the area, it wasn't very popular because of the various nightclubs that bothered people even in the morning, and Gilbert had always tried to go to places his brother didn't go precisely to avoid events like these.

There was no way his brother could’ve found out everything. Besides, it's not like he molested that kid, right?

Oh. Francis. He probably called Ludwig to pick him up, like he always did when he got into a fight or when he'd been so drunk before that he couldn't even remember his way home.  
He should have imagined it, and wondered why he never immediately remembered the enormous influence of his brother in his daily actions, as if he couldn't manage his life perfectly.

"I didn't molest him! He was just the hottest version of Feliciano and I was stunned!"

"Oh, so you decided to assault him and then sneak into his store and steal his flowers?"

"I didn't steal them! I just took a flower and put it back!" Ludwig's angry and aggressive tone made Gilbert jolt, his heart beating a thousand times and his breath short, as if he was afraid of a confrontation with his brother, who probably would not have been able to cope despite his provocative behavior and his tremendous cunning.

No one could beat Ludwig when he was bitter or disappointed. But above all, not even an awesome lie from the greatest of liars, could beat the austere truth from the mouth of the executioner.

His brother had a pulse. He wasn't used to showing this aggressive attitude of his, because it hurt him most of all. It reminded him of their alcoholic father, who used to come home late at night banging empty beer bottles on the floor and screaming like a madman.  
Those memories made even a strong man like him, crawl out of his skin. The psychological and at times physical violence suffered at home by a man who should have loved them infinitely, had made him afraid.

Ludwig remembered his eyes, expressionless, foggy glasses. If he was lucky, he could see the repressed anger of a man who had sent his life into turmoil and found comfort only in killing himself with alcohol and any drink that would keep him away from reality for a while.  
That's what his father wanted. He no longer wanted to live in reality, which had hurt him and made him a caricature of himself, but at the same time he did not have the courage to end it once and for all.

He was afraid that he might become like him, and when a new person came into his life, he was always afraid of hurting her. Because of this, he had been unable to maintain a lasting relationship since middle school. 

That's why Gilbert should have been happy with him and unhappy with himself. His brother on the road to becoming a man, a great family man, and instead he on the road to alcoholism.

Ludwig tried to suppress the anger that was eating him like a worm from the inside out, but he clenched his face and fist, trying not to lose his temper under Gilbert's compassionate gaze.

"I'll leave you alone. Rest and try not to get drunk until tomorrow. Feliciano has invited us to have dinner with him tomorrow." He took a deep breath, and in a quiet voice took his leave. 

Oh, shit. Gilbert slammed his hand on her face in a resounding facepalm making his fingers stick together like he was trying to get the shape of his hand on his face.  
Damn it, always at the least opportune moments and in pitiful states, he had to find himself meeting someone he liked.

And he smelled like beer and frying.

Gilbert rolled his eyes, blinked hastily, as if he were trying to wake up from what he thought was a dream.  
He quickly turned around trying to catch his brother's eye, but to his surprise he was no longer there.

"I'm such a shit," his head turned like a carousel, his hand resting on his forehead crawling over his face trying not to lose the sense of touch to wake his sleepy brain.

Ludwig didn't see it. After warning Gilbert, he left everything behind and ran into the kitchen, closing the door trying to put a significant distance between him and his brother.

He turned on the radio, playing good classical music that would relax him and clear his head of thoughts.

///

"I'm really exhausted! Look, my hair is full of moisture and smells like beer!" Francis rolled a lock of his hair around his tapered finger, rubbing the scalp gently with his clean, manicured hand.

A bitter look characterized his face, raising an eyebrow in a sense of disappointment to the English man in front of him.

"Just touch that hair, it will become straw! It's already yellow, so half the work is complete."

"Mon amour, don't be so mean -"

"Don't call me like that, French frog!"

He grabbed Francis by the collar and cornered him with his back to the wall, but Francis unexpectedly, instead of fighting back and foiling a kick to the English man's balls, he put a gentle and soft kiss on the tip of his nose, making the man who later trained the grip blush.

"What happened last night? You got home late." Arthur asked. He was slightly worried, since Francis didn't usually retire so late when he went out with friends.  
He was afraid he'd had some unpleasant encounters or got into a drunken fight.

He totally let Francis take over, adjusting his tie, and running his hand through his hair slightly messing it up, and then sitting on the couch followed by the elegant French man.

"Yesterday, Gilbert got drunk again. I don't know what to do with that man!" He took a deep breath, then puffed and pretended to wipe a tear from his eye.

"I don't think this is the first time he's done this."

"I know mon Cher, but this time it's different. He was rejected by Feliciano, and he can't accept it. The worst thing, which I think hurt him the most, is that he was rejected for Ludwig!"

Arthur showed a surprised face. Not so much because he was rejected for Ludwig, but simply because someone had the courage to reject him.  
On the other hand, Ludwig was a stable man who gave serenity and a fixed point in his life, and of course, although teenagers wanted someone like Gilbert because it was the moment in life when you do not look for stability but adventure, and he could have given very well, it was not difficult to understand that that adventure would not last long because it would get soon replaced by the desire to grow up and have a family.

He nodded as he listened to Francis tell the whole story, and was amazed at how someone like Feliciano, slightly fearful and cowardly, had the courage to reject him.  
Don't misunderstand. It's not that Gilbert was capable of committing violence after rejection, but he was simply not the type that boys, but especially girls, would let slip away even for an adventure.  
It was still a life experience, which many would not mind doing. He was like that, and Arthur knew that he would stay that way forever, even with his denture and his walking stick in his hand.

"Did the words of Feliciano's refusal hurt him so much?"

"Let's say Feliciano didn’t had to say anything. The thing that hurt Gilbert, which he found worse than rejection, was how Feliciano ignored him when Ludwig was around."

"I see. It must have been a blow to the German rebel."

"i think that too, mon cher"

"I told you not to call me like that!"

"Oh I see you are quite nervous, aren’t you? you want some, tea lovely English man?"

"Yes please. and also, fuck you."

///

"Hey Lovi, you there?" 

Lovino heard the bell ringing in his shop when the door was rushed open. Feliciano entered with a bright smile and hid something behind his back, but Lovino didn't care too much about what it was.

He was busy changing the water to the flowers and delicately removing with a decisive cut of pliers, the extra thorns of the roses that were bothering him and the customers, or shortening some stems that if too long, made the flower not very elegant for his taste. And above all, it was also difficult to find a gallant and very careful card to cover it with.

"Did you come in the store to bust my balls here too?" He raised his eyes to the sky and gave him a brief smile that seemed almost like a bored grimace, but even though Lovino would never have admitted it, he was happy Feliciano made himself part of his daily life by giving him a bit of fun at work, thanks to his clumsiness and his being carefree, and this relaxed him enormously; he considered it a touch of color in his dull, grey German life.

"Come on Brother! I just wanted to be with you, I like your flowers so much" Lovino noticed the dexterity and nonchalance with which Feliciano hid what he was hiding behind his back, in the back pockets of his trousers, so as to try to hide the mysterious object from his brother's eyes.

Feliciano rushed on a pair of sunflowers freshly brought into the shop by a Russian man who was a friend of his, and had started playing with the flower petals, constantly pulling them up with his nose until he exploded in a sneeze that made all the petals fly around.

There was a hairy bun left, an Italian with a sulk and one with red, irritated eyes and a dripping nose.

"You're fucking nuts! Keep away from my flowers, you villain!"

"Okay okay, I'm sorry! I didn't mean it! I'm sorry!"

But in spite of Feliciano's foxy old fox action, which was unexpectedly cunning and not by him, the older Italian once again noticed what he was hiding, and was doubly intrigued.  
Not even the nerve-racking whining of the younger one had managed to make him angry in that case, because there was something much more interesting this time than his desire to use his brother as a punching bag.

If someone had seen him, would have thought he was a maniac looking at his brother's ass like that, which although cute and well-made, was not the object of his attention.  
His green eyes closed more and more, becoming smaller and smaller as his eyelids fell on them like drops of dew on a leaf at Lovino's attempt to sharpen his eyesight, while his lips pouted as if he was trying to put on a nice red lipstick that would have sent even the toughest of men, to the brink.

"Feliciano, you're allergic to flowers."

"No, no! It's not true Lovi, what you say!"

"I've known you since you ate your nose boogers, and besides, you've been spraying that fucking allergy spray up your nose since you walked in here. Oh, and most importantly you destroyed my flower!"

"But I like being with you, I've never visited your shop" Feliciano blew his nose, also trying to get rid of his nasal voice.

"That's because you're allergic to my damn flowers!"

Lovino lowered the glasses he wore only when he was working, trying to catch his brother's out-of-focus look and look him in the eye.  
He caught them. They were moving from one direction to the other, proving that he had Feliciano in his grip and that he had just been caught.

"Something stinks here."

"Oh, I don't know, I can't hear, my nose is clogged-"

"Idiot! I mean, that you're hiding something from me! Don't think I haven't seen that thing you've been hiding ever since you walked in here!"

Feliciano sweated cold, and trembled with anxiety under the touch of Lovino's finger, which staked on his chest with annoying and slightly aggressive for his taste.

He swallowed his saliva, trying to free himself from the knot in his throat, and adjusted his collar to give air to the face that he felt was on fire.

"Feliciano, don't waste my time! I have to work, I can't keep up with your teenage problems!"

He knew that pressing his brother would be counterproductive, but it was the only thing to do to get him to spit it out once and for all, even though he was sure he would faint from the anxiety and accumulated stress.

"Here... you remember Ludwig? I told you about him, didn't I?" Here it is, the confirmation of what Lovino had expected since Feliciano had entered the shop risking a respiratory crisis because of the pollen, but probably he would have gone into a nervous breakdown if his brother had made that name again, which led his brain always thinking about what happened early in the morning.

"Yeah, go on. What did the bastard do? I swear I--"

"No, here you go!" He said everything in one breath, promptly handing his brother a pretty little paper card decorated with rose petals.

"I thought it would be nice to introduce him to you and invite him over for lunch..."

"Hi, I invite you to eat at the Vargas’ house this Sunday. But sorry, there's no need for all this formality, we don't have to go to a wedding!"

"But wait Feliciano, what did you say? Is Ludwig coming to have dinner with us?" He thought his eyeballs would roll out any minute and end up on the floor.  
Seriously, that potato eater in their house? No, no! There was no way! Lovino didn't want to see him, he wanted to spare the two lovebirds at the table while he just wanted to enjoy his plate of lasagna in peace.  
He wanted to spare himself the "oh, baby! You got a dirty mouth, let me clean it up!"  
"Ja Ja, Liebe, danke..."

"Please Lovi! Can I trust your sense of hospitality and education?"

"But Feliciano, I mean-"

"Come on, please!"

"All right! Your German can come, but if you dare act like boyfriends, I'll throw you both out the door, and keep eating on the landing!"

"Ve! Thank you Fratello!" He reached around his brother's neck, squeezing him in a warm embrace. Well, it looked more like an octopus trying to squeeze its prey and then eat it in a bite.

"You're welcome, but hey, did you use my roses to do this?" He waved the note in the air, crumpling it with the force of his fingers with which he held the invitation firmly. Her face was slowly writhing with anger, and her teeth rubbed against each other vibrating, and her eyes were literally obscured by dark eyebrows.

"Well, that's..."

"Feliciano Vargas! These roses cost more than you!" He rolled up the newspaper he bought every day he read the daily news, and began to beat his brother on the ass with it, quite violently, pushing him out of the store and slamming the glass door he feared would break.

He watched his brother run away, but could see a sly smile on his face. In the end, he deserved to be happy, he was a good guy even if a little irresponsible and naive.

Lovino shook his head, smiling smugly and puffing cheerfully. He had to calm down and enjoy these moments of peace, where everything was as he decided and nobody was in his way. Everything was like a sweet fluty sound, of the most elegant music played on harp or violin.  
He had to relax, drink a few drops of wine and think about his beautiful flowers, because very soon everything would be over, and he would find himself at the table with beer, sauerkraut and disgusting, smelly raw potatoes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will be really interesting, I promise ;)  
> I wanted to add some FrUk in this chapter, just as a try


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I updated a few days in advance. I'll probably write the continuation and update again on Saturday, so you can get two chapters in a week.  
> Also this one is very long, my bad eheh. If there are any annoying grammatical errors, let me know! Online translators are not so precise :) 
> 
> Thank you!!

The rest of the day had gone by quite normally. He cleaned the shop, watered the flowers, cleaned the sign and gave some fragrant flowers to some old people.

Then he went home, ate something, yelled at his brother, did his math, slept and then started all over again.

It was all happening so fast. First of all, his brother talked to him about what he was sure was his boyfriend, then he ran into a drunken German who was harassing him at work, and finally, to round up that nice shitty dish, Feliciano had decided to invite that Ludwig guy to dinner with them just today.

It was a strange atmosphere around him lately. He couldn't even understand himself, let alone the others.

He simply wanted to stay quiet in his shop, taking care of his beautiful flowers and eating alone and in peace, a nice plate of spaghetti with fresh tomatoes from his garden that he carefully cared for.

Of course, the work had taken up his time to devote to agriculture, but he did everything he could to donate at least a couple of hours a day to his garden. Both to check it and for any adjustments and a nice check-up of his delicious seedlings.

And he wasn't going to do any of that. The closing time of the shop was getting closer and soon he would find himself sitting at the table with the two lovebirds.

He had kept his shop open on that Sunday just because he was waiting for a delivery from Ivan, the rather disturbing Russian guy who brought those famous and beautiful sunflowers to him.

Lovino asked for a few extras just because his brother had destroyed the few remaining ones yesterday, and was surprised by the kindness of the boy in delivering the flowers on a day that was not exactly a working day.

He arrived at the shop at about 6 in the afternoon, holding the cardboard in his hands, with a smile so perfect that even the bravest of the soldiers of ancient Rome would have shuddered.  
It was a simple pulled-faced smile that Lovino found particularly disturbing. But everything took second place when he looked at the beautiful flowers and said to himself that that thrill and those beads of sweat were worth it for such loot, which was not even particularly expensive.

He had stacked the boxes on top of each other ready to take them out in the paper bin, but just when he stepped outside the door he saw a slender, tanned figure running towards him quickly waving both of his arms.

Oh, mamma mia. Oh my goodness.

It was that bastard Antonio. Lovino hurried back after throwing the boxes in hastily and rushed into the store, slamming the glass door.

Seriously, that door was bound to break down sooner or later.

"Where the fuck is that fucking remote!" His sweaty, soiled hands slid on the table quickly feeling it, trying to find the remote control that would be used to lower the shutter.  
after throwing whatever was on the table, flying pliers, scissors, and even keys, he found the infamous object that would save his ass.  
and after dropping it on the floor a couple of times because of his buttery hands, he began to press down hard on the self-convince himself that it would serve to increase the speed of the shutter closure.

"Hey Lovino! Am I still in time to buy some flowers?"

"No! Go away, it's not work day!"

"But you're open..."

"Not anymore now! Get the fuck out of here, it's closing day and you can't buy anything!"

"Come on, please! It's urgent, they're for Belle!"

"I don't give a fuck who they are for, my fucking store is closed and you need to go somewhere else!"

Although the shutter was well closed, Antonio's loud, whining voice was audible, and this irritated Lovino.

Antonio at that moment was like a downpour on a hot and beautiful late spring day, or like a thunderstorm on a day that was already going to suck, considering that today he would have thrown his food to satiate the stomach of a potato that probably didn't understand a fucking even how to fucking cook properly.   
He didn't want to deal with that dirty Spanish traitor anymore, which was the perfect icing on the cake for every shitty day he started.

He had resigned himself to the fact that he would have him up on his ass until his stay in Germany, which by the mercy of the divine Lord, wouldn't be for long.

Antonio, Francis and his boyfriend were there on business, which meant they would have to leave after January when the 6 months of probation abroad would have ended. Therefore, unlike Lovino, they had not moved out because they wanted staff, but had been sent by their company in order to accustom their employees to a possible stay abroad in their future working experience.  
They worked in different sectors, but they decided to stay in the same country in order to feel less lonely and continue to be assholes together.

Lovino emitted a heavy sigh of resignation, blinking his eyelids fast as if waking from a deep sleep, then wrinkling his eyes hastily and dropping a few of his long eyelashes.

And just when he thought he had chased away the annoying Spanish fly, he heard it slamming its fists against the shutter.

"I told you to leave, I don't work on Sundays!" Lovino's voice was a frightening growl, you could even hear his teeth scraping against each other so ferociously that he thought they had generated fire, by dint of going at that speed. He was not accustomed to such insistence, and it was pressing on his nerves.

"But please, I don't know where else to go, it's all closed!"

"Get the fuck out, I said! I'm late because of you!"

"Oh? For what?"

"It's none of your fucking business and now get the fuck out before I cut off all your limbs with my pliers!"

Lovino remained locked in the shop until he felt his fists stop pounding on his shutter and heard the heavy, knocked-down footsteps of a man walking away, feeling defeated.

He felt good actually, with these gestures he was able to take that little revenge for what happened with him.

To tell the truth he was sorry that Belle could not receive his flowers, but then he remembered that they would go into Antonio's hand before being given to the girl, and when he thought of his slimy hands touching her beautiful flowers, he felt a shiver of disgust in his back and a sense of vomiting that gave him a headache.

The rhythmic ticking of the clock on the wall filled the room, which at that moment was only animated by the noise Lovino made, trying to clear his voice and breathing hard to catch his breath after screaming like mad at the stupid Spaniard who was literally giving him a heart attack.   
He looked at the imposing clock with the Roman numerals. He had found it among some of his grandfather's belongings when he was clearing out his old house to get rid of his junk.   
The old man certainly had good taste with literally everything. He loved antique shops so much that he went there every weekend and turned his house into a real history museum.

Lovino had only set foot in his grandfather's house a year after his death because he felt uncomfortable doing it earlier, and he would wait until he got over it psychologically.   
And then instead, he had started to enter the house alone almost every day after the night shift he did when he was still working as a waiter in a disgusting German pizzeria, which only had the name of “pizzeria”.   
Every step, every time his foot touched the ground, his body was shaken with a sense of sadness and his eyes became shiny as his face was shed with subtle tears.

When his hands shook, he would calm down and still feel the sensation of his grandfather taking his hand and holding it.

When he was a child and still couldn't swim, Romolo used to take his hand and drag him into the water with him, telling him that everything would be all right and that he would turn into a little fish once he learned to swim well.  
He was sure he could still smell the old man and his favorite Cologne scent, that he sprayed himself daily on his neck and big wrists when he left home just to go shopping at the supermarket.

His clothes in the closet were all extremely sober and elegant, but he too often broke the rule and wore very tacky and antique gold necklaces that meant a lot to him. Lovino therefore let it go and didn't overwhelm him with his style tips when he saw him wearing a wrinkled white shirt and those hateful gold necklaces, as he understood that they were a sign that distinguished his grandfather from the others.

He had decided to keep the clock, it was perhaps the most beautiful piece of antique he had ever had. Although time had yellowed it and caused some damage to its mechanism, Lovino never stopped admiring it.

He knew that one day that it would break, and with him also the feeling that Grandpa Romolo was still with him, living in that clock. But at the same time, it wouldn't go away. It would just break, which meant that even if it didn't work anymore it would still be there, broken but there, alive in his death just like his grandfather.

Lovino, sitting in the wicker chair with his legs dangling, looked at that clock passively one last time before its solemn sound fell back into the small room.

"Fuck, fuck! It's 8:00, I gotta get home, I ain't even got shit to eat !" Of course, not that he would mind if the German had starved to death, but in a way all this stress had also caused himself a big hole in his stomach, which would hardly have filled up without a good meal.

He had realized that he had locked himself in the shop, and even though he was afraid of finding Antonio out again, he decided to go out without waiting any longer.

He lifted the shutter and noticed with pleasure that he was alone, while the sky had turned the most beautiful shades of orange and red. It was barely sunset, and that pinch of typical summer days was still alive in the early days of September. The days were still long, and the wind was dry and warm.

He closed the door with the keys with a precise movement, and waited for the shutter to lower again to the rhythm of the remote control. This time he was outside the shop, and while he waited for the shutter to lower, he looked up: his green eyes stared at the colored mosaic that made up the sign of his shop, and he could not help but smile at the sight of his deformed reflection small fragments of glass.

///

"Gilbert, we're late because of you. One more time" well, not that it was news, he'd resigned himself by now.

Ludwig raised his thin, blond eyebrow, giving Gilbert a good enough look while his thin lips and small mouth were wrinkled in a slight pout, giving the German a rather funny expression even though his intention was not really to make the Gilbert laugh on that occasion.

"It doesn't matter if we're late, Italians always do that. Why can't we be the ones who are late for once?"

"We are guests and we must be punctual. It is our duty."

"Duty, duty, duty, blah blah blah Lud!" Gilbert turned his head towards his brother, puffing and shaking his head to get his wet hair off his face, which prevented him from seeing. "You're so un-awesome lately. Or rather, you never have been, but lately you've gotten so bad that even my iron-made personality is having trouble putting up with you."

"Take a shower and hurry up" Ludwig knew that this was simply Gilbert's attempt to provoke and cause an unpleasant reaction from himself, but he did not know that this time he had played tricks and would predict his moves.

He absolutely didn't want to spoil his dinner with Feliciano because of some stupid overgrown child's whim.

"Beware that my awesome ass won't win back your prey again! I'll be shining like a diamond and you will be just my shadow! I'm so fucking handsome" Ludwig turned his eyes, emitting a hissing sigh and then looked in the mirror.

He grabbed the comb made of bone and brushed it over his hair, combing and further adjusting his slicked-back hair, which had been filled by wagons of hair gel, so they wouldn't move from their position. They made him look cheeky but hey, he was still elegant.  
he raised his right brow and lowered the opposite one, slightly wrinkling his mouth and imagining a conversation with Feliciano, while he insisted on adjusting the bow of his tuxedo with both hands zigzagging it.

"Hey, stop improvising as a model and comb that cowlick hair again! Bring me the clothes I have on the bed!" Gilbert came out of the bathroom holding the towel tied around his waist, while with a smaller one he dried his platinum blonde hair with a strong hand movement.

Ludwig nodded bringing his brother what he requested, albeit slightly embarrassed at the thought of having just been caught making flirtatious faces in front of the living room mirror, which were supposed to be “sexy” but were in fact just plain ridiculous enough.

"Doesn't that seem a little overdressed to you?" He looked at Gilbert's clothes and a puzzled expression rose up over his face, twisting his head. They were simple leather trousers with matching jacket and an almost transparent white t-shirt. Yes, he really seemed to want to show off his nice pack of abs, the result of years of intense training in the gym.

"Hmm, you're right. Maybe I should take the jacket off? Yeah, definitely. Bad boy style that's not very awesome or in vogue right now."

"I mean, I don't think he's fit for dinner."

"Oh, come on Bruder! You're the one who dressed up to eat at his house! You're the one who dressed up like that Austrian friend of yours! He must have really infected your development as a real German man."

"But the Germans dress the way I do."

"Chatter! Now shut up and let me get ready, I gotta shave this pretty face." He stroked his right cheek firmly and then pinched himself on the opposite one.

He slammed the bathroom door in his brother's face, puzzled and still slightly embarrassed.

He turned around ready to go back into the living room and sit on the sofa to wait, but trying not to shrivel his trousers, but as he set off he was lured by a pile of dirt and rubbish and numerous clothes brutally thrown on a chair in Gilbert's room.

"Ah Gilbert, always the usual" he opened the window to make change the air that was definitely spoiled, and then he began to remove one by one the cards of snacks by throwing them in the newly emptied bin, along with pieces of aluminum that had made paper for some sausage sandwiches dating back to a few weeks ago.

"What- oh, you still have this? Looks like it's been used recently..." Ludwig's scrutiny eye came back to life after a period of inactivity. After removing a sweat-soaked shirt lying on his desk covering his computer keyboard, he saw to his surprise the famous red diary that Gilbert kept as if it were a relic of some saint.

Gilbert had had several diaries, and this must have been the most recent. He could tell this only by feeling the cover of the diary, which was not ruined and had no dust or yellowed pages. As he turned the diary over in his hands, he looked at it between his short eyelashes, slightly narrowing his eyelids to bring the object into focus, bringing his face closer and closer to the cover.   
And well, he decided to open it up and take a look. He wasn't used to peeking into his brother's private things, but not even his stable and serious attitude could hide his monkey-like dose of curiosity.

_"Dear awesome diary, today Gilbird threw up on me after eating an extra dose of food. That's disgusting! His vomit got my shirt dirty, but hey, even when he throws up, he’s as magnificent as his owner."_

_"Dear awesome diary, today Roderich fell down the stairs in front of everyone! HAHA! I might have put oil on it to make him slip... I might."_

"What the-?" Ludwig gazed with surprise. Poor Roderich, he thought. That's why he had been wearing the cast on his right leg for more than two months.

He had to admit that Gilbert was quite exhilarating, and imagining the scene of the Austrian tumbling down the stairs, a faint smile began to take place on his face but it quickly faded away when he realized what he was doing, breaking that nascent smile on his face and shaking his head to get rid of that funny thought.  
It was the only episode he remembered because his brother had told him about it. He laughed so much, but so much that his stomach hurt and he started to cry with laughter.

Going back through the pages, however, Ludwig didn't seem to know what year the diary belonged to; he thought it was probably from the last years of high school, but he couldn't say for sure since Gilbert was so lazy he even avoided writing down at least one date.

He kept reading.

_Dear awesome diary, Elizaveta and I are engaged! "It's the most wonderful day of my life! "She's awesome too, though not as awesome as I am. I'm so happy I even forgot to feed Gilbird."_

_“Dear awesome Diary, it's been three months since our engagement to Elizaveta. I see her far away, she no longer kisses me and doesn't even want to make love. I'm very sad to tell you the truth. I never thought I'd find myself in this pitiful state. The magnificent depressed Gilbert eating industrial quantities of ice cream with his spoon. Would you ever have guessed? Well, I wouldn't."_

_Dear awesome Diary, Elizaveta and I broke up. I cried for days, especially when she told me the reason of the breakup was Roderich. She realized that she loved him and saw me as a friend, not the other way around as she admitted the first few days. Unbelievable, that shitty-ass Austrian piece of shit is better than me, wow."_

_“Dear awesome Diary, Elizaveta and I are no longer friends. I didn't feel like going on. I think I fell in love with Feliciano, he's so cute! He stood by me while I faced the post-breakup state."_

_"Dear awesome Diary, all has been lost. Ludwig loves Feliciano, and vice versa. I think I'll leave the two of them together without even a fight. I'm bound to be dissatisfied, but hey! At least I have my magnificent ass. That's all I need._

_P.s after 2 days. I'm lonely. Being alone really sucks."_

"Oh, Gilbert..." was all he could say. He softened his ever-rigid face, and a tear ran down his cheek.

He never expected to read of his brother's frailty, of how he really felt. He had never wanted to push him too hard to confide, but reading those little fragments of his life had made him more human in Ludwig's eyes. He had exposed his weaknesses in a little diary.  
His brother felt so alone. Of course, he knew that, but he didn't imagine so much loneliness. And not because he had a diary, but because he admitted to himself that he was lonely and even wrote about his state of mind. 

"Hey Lud, what are you doing in my room?" Ludwig shuddered and shivered, making the diary fly out of his hands, but he took it in time and hid it under his jacket.

He turned with a forced and embarrassed smile as he rubbed his hand against the back of his head.

"What the fuck is that face? Oh, you were cleaning! Thank you Bruder." Gilbert smiled energetically, patting his brother's shoulder and looking up at the sky he could breathe a sigh of relief, relaxing his stiffened muscles and letting the fire on his embarrassingly lit face go out slowly and without the intervention of the firemen.

"So, shall we go? It's 8:30, we're late."

"Oh, yes Gil. Uh, by the way..."

Ludwig approached Gilbert, surrounding him with his mighty arms and holding him in a shy hug, resting his head on his left collarbone.  
Gilbert gouged out his eyes, puzzled. He remained motionless without reacting to this unexpected action, but it did not take too long for him to return the hug, holding his brother in turn and rubbing his hand on his shoulder.   
Their arms squeezed around each other and held their breasts together, while another warm tear descended on Ludwig's cheek, but he dried with a quick movement of his index finger so as not to be noticed by his brother.   
it was a warm, brotherly hug, and gilbert was sure it would give him strength. the way ludwig held him, reminded him of when they were children.

"what was that for?"

"Oh? Nothing, nothing" the embarrassed face of Ludwig, who avoided eye contact and covered himself with a rosy towel, was the first thing that Gilbert noticed after detaching himself from the shy hug. He hadn't received something like that in years, and it made him feel good for a moment.

"All right, Bruder. I love you too, but we should really go now," he pointed his thumb at the door, nodded and grinned with his eyes closed, only to be replaced by a shy smile of joy that was obviously hidden by Ludwig.

"Hey, I'm sorry, I've been acting not great these days." It was what the albino did not hesitate to say when he took his seat in the car and his brother got behind the wheel. He didn't apologize often. In fact, he never did. But with his brother he knew he could do it without feeling judged or ridiculed.

"All right, Gil."

"Thank you! You're the best!"

"So are you."

"Aw Luddy, you don't need to say that, I already know! In fact, you're the second best."

"You're always the same," he puffed, giving his brother a sweet, quiet look, always careful not to be noticed by the latter, "but I love you for that too."

///

"Feli, I’m home!"

"Finally Lovi! I thought you weren't coming!" Feliciano was all smiles, and leapt towards his brother wearing an apron with tomatoes.

"Have you started cooking yet?"

"Yes! I was afraid you were late, so I've almost got everything ready."

"Perfect. Hey, where's the potato bastard?" It was natural for him to ask that question. It was 8:30 and there was no trace of the nauseating smell of potatoes, which made Lovino doubtful. But hey, good for him. His nostrils and taste buds would stay intact for a while.

"Maybe he's late. A bit odd for a German, isn't it?" Feliciano giggled, squeezing his eyes and covering his mouth with his fragile hand, while with the other hand he was still holding the ladle with a few drops of fresh tomato sauce on it.

Lovino could not help but notice his brother in his entirety and complexity. The peach-coloured face gave youth and infantility to his already young and pure face. His coppery, disheveled hair had pins of sweat, and was pulled back by a headband, so as to move the rebellious tufts from contact with the eyes, which would otherwise have made it difficult for Feliciano to cook.

Also, the hair could have ended up in the pot while he was cooking, and that would have been very unattractive.   
He had changed his mind: first he thought it wouldn't matter if the German liked it or not, but in fact now he wanted him to find his food so good that he even cried thinking how disgusting his food was compared to the heavenly italian delicacies.

"Come on Feli, this food must be fucking good" Feliciano rolled his eyes and a big, bright smile was drawn on his already radiant face, following the 8th quotation from Lovino.

The boy rushed into the kitchen, looking and analyzing the contents of the pots and pans. He was enchanted by the sound of the sizzling meat in the pan, its genuine smell and how he could already taste it just by looking at it.  
He heard the gurgling of the sauce in the large pot, and quickly moved the lid to take a generous spoonful of sauce. It tasted wonderful, something astral. He could feel the little pieces of meat in the sauce melt in his mouth, and the taste of the sauce was the perfect accompaniment.   
He added just a few pinches of salt and rosemary and then immediately went to take a quick look at the lasagna that was cooked in the oven, and just seeing the mozzarella melt slowly overwhelmed by the heat, made Lovino's stomach grumble, who licked his lips at the thought of enjoying that good thing.

It was a blessing for the sense of smell, for the eyes, for the palate, for everything! It was fucking perfection.

"Bravo Feli. It was really perfect, I wonder how a dumbass and slacker like you could make something like this." Lovino sincerely complimented himself, crossing his brother's clear eyes.

"Well Lovi, I actually followed the recipes that you and Grandpa wrote in the book. They're perfect!" He smiled in response, awakening in Lovino a sense of pride in himself that he had missed.

"Should I bake a cake?" He asked.

"If you really want to, yes! Ludwig would like it!"

"Hey! I'm doing this for you, not for that rotten potato!" The boy's face was again formed by wrinkled eyebrows frowning at his mouth and gnashing his teeth as he waved his hand bent like an artichoke under his brother's innocent face.

"Okay, okay sorry! Don't do it if you want to!"

"I do, but we're the only ones who'll eat it! Got it?" It's true, he wanted the German to like their food (but for pure revenge, eh!) but he certainly didn't want to let them taste the dessert. No, that was too much. It would have been enough to put on the tip of his disgusting tongue a drop of sauce, which would have already basked on the floor exploding in a thunderous sorrow.

The ringing sound of the doorbell didn't take long to arrive, making Feliciano jump into the kitchen, who threw his apron in an instant and hastily adjusted his hair with a wooden brush. He was very elegantly dressed. A white shirt with four unbuttoned buttons that allowed a glimpse of the chest, and black straight pants made of cotton, tight at the waist with a very dark leather belt.   
Everything fitted with his skinny figure, and the way the clothes fell perfectly over it made the boy a perfect Armani model. The bright amber eyes, the light splash of freckles and the face surrounded by his coppery hair together with his rebellious curl, made Feliciano a perfect picture. It was beautiful, of a surreal and dazzling beauty.

"Oh Lovi open up! Eh, one thing... could you be nice to Ludwig? Please, do it for me." Feliciano gave his helpless puppy eyes, putting his hands together in front of Lovino who stepped back, taken by surprise.

He looked at him passively, raising a corner of his mouth "I promise you nothing" and went to open the door.

There he is, Ludwig. A pile of muscles, blond hair and piercing blue eyes. I wonder if he was even funny? Haha, no way. He was German. Is there really such a thing as nice Germans? No, they were just a myth and the least believable of all the legends.

"Um, hi, I'm Lud-"

"He's in the dining room, you Kraut bastard" Lovino said in a surprisingly calm tone, but refused to look at him or shake his hand, completely ignoring it, even moving the hand away from him to with a light slap.   
Ludwig was surprised and amazed in a way he could not define, but he shook his head and then nodded to the green-eyed man as he went where he had ordered him to go.

"Ludwig! ciao, how are you? You look handsome!" Feliciano smiled, jumping at the neck of the German who kept scratching the back of his neck as if he had a mosquito bite, holding the Italian in a tight hug that he thought would suffocate him.

Lovino closed the door, following the two of them into the dining room.

"So Ludwig, this is my older brother Lovino. He is 22 years old, born in Naples in 199-"

"Yes, Feliciano, for the mercy of the fucking God! Now you want to give him my Social Security number too?" He barked leaning out on the table and banging his fist on it, which blew up all the cutlery and plates still waiting to be filled, only to strike the German with his eyes because in his opinion he had an expression that aimed to make fun of him.

The German cleared his throat again, loosening his jib and trying to brush his face.

He was in an obvious state of embarrassment, and he didn't know what to do. He looked at Lovino shouting at his brother, calling him impolite, alternating ferocious words with outrageous gestures. He moved his arms continuously, as if hunting an annoying swarm of bees around him.  
and then he looked at Feliciano, who didn't really know how to react to what could be yet another rant from the older brother.

Were they always like that when they had guests? He thought it was an Italian habit. He understood very little about them.

"So Ludwig, here we have-" Feliciano relaxed his voice and quietly resumed speaking under his brother's look of approval, but was interrupted again by the ringing of the doorbell.

"What the hell? You potato bastard, you brought the whole gang of seven dwarves you work with in the mine?" Lovino got up steaming without even looking anyone in the face, getting up from the table by pressing his hands on the table to make himself strong, annoyed.

He felt upset in his daily life, and when he tried to maybe feel comfortable with what he hoped he would NOT be his brother-in-law in the distant future, he was punctually disturbed by sounds, noises, or phrases that he did not like and that his brother used to pronounce.   
However, it wasn't that the poor guy had a cat, but just looking into his eyes, Lovino could feel a slimy and disgusting feeling pervading his body, indicating that the guy was not a reliable guy at all and that he was just an ugly, short-haired, blond-haired, muscle-bound guy with his brain crushed like a potato.

"Hey Feliciano, haha you forgot about the aws-" the radiant, amused smile of the guy at the door gradually faded, making both corners of his mouth lower and raising his eyebrows in amazement.

"What the fuck are you doing here? Then I was right, you are the bastard's brother!" Lovino's rude words full of wrath, did not at all cheer Gilbert, who was uncomfortable enough to look at his bright olive green eyes which were injected with blood and death.

"Another rant" Ludwig thought, puffing and holding Feliciano in his place, warning him not to meddle in the situation that would soon precipitate, considering the imminent possibility of confrontation between two potentially dangerous elements.

"Hey, man, calm down. Look, I'm sorry" Gilbert put his hands forward, moving away a little bit from Lovino and his teeth that were beginning to scar each other trying not to make a spectacle and keep his hands to himself.

"I don't give a fuck about your shitty excuses, now get your filthy ass away from my fucking landing!" He roared, and with his arm outstretched as well as his index finger, pointed to the German in front of him.

"Hey! I wanted to apologize to your brother, and then I'm hungry and-"

"I don't give a shit what you have to do or don't have to do, I don't care if you're hungry. Use your fucking money to buy yourself some food. Besides, why would you want to apologize to my brother?" Lovino's question was legitimate. But Gilbert didn't know if he should have answered it.

"Yeah Gil, it's true. Why must you apologize?" Feliciano stood up, freeing himself from Ludwig's arm and approaching him at some quick but hesitant paces, looking curiously into the crimson eyes of the other, who blushed and shook his head as a symbol of denial.

"Nothing, Feli. I'll tell you about it later."

"And I'm afraid not. Get the fuck out!" He did not wait for an answer, and slammed the door in Gilbert's face, who promptly put his hands on the nose that was about to hit the huge cherry wood door, while the steel knob stuck into his right kidney.

"You are a horrible person! How dare you treat me like this? How fucking dare you! I am the most awesome of all of you and-"

"I don't give a shit! I won't give respect to people who come into my shop drunk and steal my flowers and them harass me by jumping on me!"

"But I didn't steal your flowers, just a rose! And then I put it back!"

"Sure, and I had to throw it away because it was as dry as your hair."

"But wait!" He ran his hand through his hair, curling his nose, and noticing that Lovino was right about the dryness of his hair, he shrugged it off wondering how he could tell just by looking at it and not even touching it.

"I bet you've been such a jerk, you've even touched your hair" Gilbert could imagine Lovino with his arms folded with a slight pout on his face, even though he had a door and a wall separating him and even though he had known him for less than 10 minutes.

"Hey! You can't predict my awesome moves, schön brünett" and Lovino in turn could see Gilbert laughing like a dope, feeling realized for embarrassing him slightly. He let out a giggle, which he immediately suffocated, sulking and arching his eyebrows as a symbol of contempt. That filthy bastard! It was lucky he couldn't see it at that moment.

Gilbert slipped with his back to the door, resting his butt on the cold marble floors of the landing and bringing his knees to his chest, resting his chin.

"Come on, now that I've made you laugh, can you let me in?" He said, whimpering and weakly knocking.

"In your dreams! And then y-you didn't make me laugh at all! Get off the landing!"

"No! I'm staying here."

"All right, Casper! Enjoy smelling my good food while you bite your nails so you don't starve to death!" And after Lovino fired the last shot, Gilbert realized he'd lost that little battle.

He puffed bored, and banged his head lightly on the door. He had taken this squabble very seriously, and he thought he could win it with different weapons: he thought he was using his little jokes, his weapons of seduction, which the Italian had broken in a thousandth of a second.   
That brat even called him Casper! He was offended, and crossed his arms thinking about how he had been attributed such an un-awesome character, but with whom he apparently had the color of his skin in common.

Lovino cleared his throat and adjusted the collar of his turtleneck sweater, but even though it was hot he didn't want to look sloppy, and the white turtleneck was an elegant alternative to a stupid tomato red sweater with some weird print.

"Lovino! But didn't you get Gilbert to come? Poor guy! He'll starve to death!" Feliciano said, showing real concern.

"Are you serious? You can't starve to death without eating for a day!" In response, the young Italian received a dizziness of eyes and a facepalm from his brother who was quite annoyed and annoyed.   
Lovino did not sit down at the table, but walked towards the kitchen at a fast pace and swayed his hips slightly, while making noise with his slippers.

"But Lovino! Aren't you eating?"

"You two eat, I'm not hungry," he answered without even turning around, grabbing the bowl, some flour, eggs, yeast, butter, sugar and a ladle.

He thought that by cooking he would have relieved some of the stress and wouldn't have to listen to the two lovebirds at the table eating spaghetti from the same plate, pecking at one in common that would lead them to kiss each other with their mouths dirty with sauce, just like in that dog movie Feliciano was obsessed with.   
He buttered the pan carefully, then vigorously stirred the dough into the bowl and added when necessary, a little fresh milk from his neighbor's cow.   
Yes. Cooking had definitely relaxed him, even if he couldn't get rid of the thought of the German who was lying outside raising his landing and rubbing his filthy body against his beautiful and clean door.   
He felt like he was disgracing a family tradition. It was sacred in Italy for all guests to leave the houses they had eaten in, on a full stomach. It was good manners on the part of the guests so eat everything and behave well.

Of course, that bastard had certainly behaved badly, but Lovino felt the need to honor his grandfather who would probably have given him a slap if he had refused to feed the most sordid and disgusting of thieves.  
Overthinking he puffed a little bit, then he poured the impact inside the baking pan, adding a few grams of cocoa and putting the cake in the oven already previously heated properly.

He turned around, looking at the shelves of the old kitchen, noting that Feliciano had already brought everything to the table except his lasagna plate.He had put it to heat up in the gas stove to prevent it from getting cold in case he took too long to argue with the German.

Lovino shook his head, and from his wrinkled lips a satisfied and slightly cheerful puff arose. He collected the freshly heated lasagna in a small aluminum baking tray, emitting a deep sigh.

"Grandpa, you bastard! You're gonna have to see my pride to honor a fucking tradition!" He growled, curling his nose and tapping his foot on the ground.

With the hot pan in his hands burning his fingers slightly, he opened the kitchen door and went into the living room.  
He saw Feliciano wipe Ludwig's face with a slick of oil, and after pulling out his tongue expressing all his disgust, he opened the door of the house.

"Ouch! Hey you! You hurt my awesome ass!" The German spat, pinching his butt in the wounded area.

"Ohhh, sorry" he raised his hands waving them, opening his mouth and gouging out his eyes to make fun of the pale German who magnified what would probably be pain comparable to a scratch with paper.

"I brought you some food."

"Oh, you finally got caught up in these, huh? Well, I don't blame you." He slid his finger over his shirt where he could see his abs, then winked ironically at the Italian who was a mixture between being of pissed off and being just embarrassed.

"No, Bastard! I just didn't want to see you starve to death on my fucking landing," he stretched out his lasagna pan, "and then, I guess you got tired of biting your nails."

"Um, yeah enough. Well, thank you very much!" He ventured onto the baking tray, sinking his fork through each still steaming layer of lasagna, admiring the mozzarella that overflowed and still melted.

"Fuck, eat decently!" He yelled, leaning forward, "Here, use this to clean up when you soil my fucking landing."

Gilbert picked up the cloth that Lovino aggressively threw at him with a nice grip. "Boy, you're really obsessed with this landing!"

"Yes, and clean it up or I'll make you lick the dirt with your tongue."

"You wouldn't."

"Fuck yeah!"

"You'd find yourself on the dirty landing of my awesome but still German drool," he gave a smile that he hoped would be taken as a sign of challenge.

"No, well... I mean... Fuck you!" There, he didn't get a new challenge. Just a “fuck you” and a door slammed back in his face that almost knocked over the lasagna pan.

"Aw, Lovi! Did you bring Gilbert food? That's so sweet!"

"Sweet my ass! I just did it so I wouldn't disgrace grandpa's tradition, that's all. He could have starved to death for me!" He answered, glancing at the door and raising his voice, hoping that Gilbert outside the door could hear what had just been said.

"I baked a cake, wait for it," he ran into the kitchen. More than half an hour had passed and he was afraid that the cake had burned, since it had not been examined under his examining eye for the duration of the baking, allowing Lovino to make sure that the cake did not show any signs of burning or even raw parts.

He put on his kitchen gloves, opened the oven with a quick movement, chased away the smoke that was coming out of the hellish thing and pulled out the cake.  
He had noticed that the cocoa had mixed well, perhaps better than he had thought, which gave the cake a hazelnut color.   
He smiled contentedly, placing the cake at the table and wiping his head with a handkerchief to remove the beads of sweat that copiously slipped on his forehead.

"Oh, how thoughtful Lovi! It's beautiful and I'm sure it'll be delicious."

"Of course it will be!" He answered in a flash. What was your brother implying? That it wasn't good?

"Thank you for the thought, Lovino."

"Shut up and eat bastard! As I said before, I cooked it for my brother and I don't need your thanks!" He put his arms outstretched, giving the blond a look that should have been threatening and frightening.

Lovino took a knife carefully cutting a generous slice of cake, placing the slice on a glass plate and then covering it with a red and white checkered napkin.

"Lovi, aren't you eating?"

He totally ignored his brother's question and abruptly opened the apartment door again. Surprisingly, no one was hurt.

"HAHA! I knew you'd reopen, so I moved. God, I'm so smart!" He pointed his finger gloriously at Lovino, while he had his other hand down and squeezed in a fist.

The grit with which the German had faced what Lovino was aware was a shitty behavior, amazed him. His face was bright, and he didn't seem at all intimidated by it.

"Shut up, or I'll eat the slice of cake I brought you!" He thundered, clutching his eyelids and handing the plate to Gilbert, tearing the now empty and well-cleaned lasagna pan from the ground.

"It was good. You could have done better too," he joked.

"Sure, right!" The Italian said, rolling his eyes.

When he saw Gilbert sit down and ravenously bite into the slice of cake, chewing it in a way he would have thought rude and childish, he felt better even though he struggled to hold back his nascent smile blossomed on his face like a flower in spring, not going unnoticed by the platinum-haired man who returned the smile by raising only the right corner of his mouth, sneering.

"What the fuck are you laughing at?" He wiped out the shy smile, embarrassed, and was surprised when Gilbert handed him the rest of the cake.

"Why don't we eat it together?"

"Tsk, as if I had nothing else!"

"But my lips touched it, so this will never be as good as the one you have in the kitchen now" oh yes. He was definitely too good at embarrassing the Italian.

"Look, fuck you!" He slammed the door for the third time in a day, and thought that the florist's would not be the only one to break after a while.

Gilbert blinked quickly, pouting his mouth full of food. Well, it hadn't been a bad day. Of course, he hadn't seen Feliciano or eaten in comfort, and he hadn't even received the epic reception he'd expected, but this might have been better.   
He had had a funny squabble with his brother, whose name he didn't even know, but he was sure that his green eyes and olive skin would be hard to forget, as well as his spicy temper.

He thought that perhaps, in the end, his weapons of seduction had not totally failed.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Im so so so sorry for not updating on Saturday! But I was really busy. This chapter has Lovino and Gilbert having some time together. Next chapter is gonna be funny, get ready!  
> Sorry again for being late!  
> Translated as usual with an online translator. It might contain grammar mistakes.

"Oh, Gilbert, i’m sure all your teeth will rot if you continue like this." Ludwig said almost in the form of a reproach as he watched his brother swallow yet another generous spoonful of ice cream from the huge jar.  
Gilbert was lying on the couch, with his belly up as usual and some old overall he had wanted to patch so as not to throw it away.

After dinner at Feliciano's house, the two of them had retired home quite tired and with their heels hurting, while Gilbert was complaining especially about a strong pain in his backside, who knows for what bizarre reason.  
To Ludwig, however, he didn't seem too sad or downhearted about what had happened: on the contrary, he had noticed with curiosity that his brother was quite amused by it, and when he wondered why he found it funny to be thrown out of the house (or rather, not to be let in at all) his mind resembled a big black hole and his thoughts wandered unanswered in it. 

"What are you talking about? These teeth are awesome and fucking straight and white as quartz. They'll never fall out, even when I'm old!" He grabbed another spoonful of ice cream, licking the spatula well from the edges and savoring the sweet taste of strawberry.

"Don't talk with your mouth full, it's not really elegant."

"How boring you are! Look here, Lud!" Gilbert leaned out from the armrest of the couch and looked his brother in the eyes, sticking his tongue out, showing him the food in his mouth.

"come on, Gil!" visibly annoyed, Ludwig simply rolled his eyes and crossed his arms emitting a slight puff that moved, if only slightly, the platinum tuft of the albino lying on his face.

"Come on, that's not funny! You don't know how to joke, you're always acting like such a wimp! And then-" 

"Let me guess, you'll say I'm boring and I remind you so much of Roderich, right?" Ludwig scanned the final words, snapping his tongue on the palate.

"Wow, Lud! You totally nailed it! How'd you do it?" Gilbert gouged out his eyes and opened his mouth visibly surprised, but Ludwig couldn't quite understand if his was sarcasm or if he was serious. Damn, Gilbert really was a great actor.

"Well, you always say that."

"True. Scheiße, I should find something new to say" he said, as he rubbed his thumb and index finger on his chin, pretending to think.

Ludwig was 100% sure he'd mention Roderich. They were very close friends, but Gilbert seemed to hate him for some past reasons, that went back to before he was dumped by Elizaveta.  
Although to tell the truth, Ludwig and Roderich got along very well and really respected each other.

"Anyway, I wanted to tell you I'm glad to see you're feeling better." Ludwig walked up to his brother, giving him one of his shyest but sweetest smiles, that warmed Gilbert’s heart.

It had already been three weeks since the meeting with Feliciano. Ludwig couldn't help but notice how relaxed his brother had been lately, and although the bad and unhealthy habits and enormous laziness still remained firm in his personality, Gilbert was visibly calmer.  
as much as sometimes he felt like he didn't know his brother and thought of him as a book written in some archaic language and impossible to read, this time he could say he was really better off. He read it in his eyes, in his movements and noticed how his habits went back to those of before, including the bad vices he had to admit he had missed.

"Yes Lud. I'm awesome, I'm better than ever!" Gilbert looked at him with a sly smile, and in turn hinted at Ludwig with another little smile.

Gilbert then lean out again from the armrest of the sofa and throw his arms in front of it giving the armrest a touch. He placed the spoon inside the now empty ice-cream packet and then put his face in front of his brother's face.

"I'm glad, really. Besides, Feliciano and I are going to hang out during Oktoberfest, if you want you can join us" the young man offered

"Nah, Lud. I leave the lovebirds alone, don't I?" He smiled with the corners of his mouth, giving him a little wink.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes! What do you think, I can't be alone?" He raised an eyebrow,perplexed, looking at his brother.

"sorry, Gilbert. I'm just worried."

"For what? I'm fine. Look at me. I'm awesome. I've been there, Lud. Live your life with your Italian in peace!“

"Alright. Do you have plans tonight?" The blond asked.

"Ah, yes! I'm going around to get ready for the party scene, today's the first day! I'm gonna go to the bar, have a drink or something, you know?" He answered, snapping off the couch, putting the dirty spoon in the sink and throwing the box of ice cream, followed by the sympathetic and at times sweet, though still serious look of his brother.

"Don't come back late"

"Hey, you're not my mother!" 

///

"We're here to celebrate this time, right Beilschmidt?" The bartender's cheerful, ringing voice matched perfectly with the sound of the glass glasses colliding gently to make toasts, sometimes dropping a few drops of wine or beer on the tablecloths that set up the oak tables that were meticulously cleaned every day to face the new wave of customers.  
The bartender promptly placed the mug in front of Gilbert, who, with a snappy movement of his hands, was generously filled with a delicious frothy draught beer, which the German swallowed in a single gulp and then quickly wiped clean by crawling the palm of his pale hand over his mouth, making his thin lips get redder and irritated due to friction.

"It's not very polite to get clean like that" the bartender rebuked almost severely, but Gilbert replied wrinkling his nose and pulling his brows together in a scowl, while blinking rapidly. Hmm? Did he really say that?

"You know, I'm too awesome for this type of shit" he glanced languidly, looking straight into the bartender's eyes and causing a spontaneous smile from the bartender, but Gilbert went on with his intention, nodding to him to fill the mug he had slammed on the counter as he held his head firmly in his hands

"I wonder how you'll find a girl if you're always so rude and coarse," the other one huffed, squinting, answering the German's request and pouring with a smile on his face another blond liquid with a heavenly taste inside the crystal glass jug.

"Oh, come on! Of course I can find a girl, with the physique I have" he said determinedly and quickly pointed with both hands at his body, then wet his fingertips with saliva and touch his hair adjusting it as he carried it backwards, and then combed his long eyebrows with the tips of his index fingers and rolled his eyes at the bartender who puffed heavily.

He felt extremely handsome and confident, more than usual actually. They were in the middle of Oktoberfest, which meant that the beer was better than usual, but above all everyone had to smell of vanity and elegance.  
Gilbert every year, he'd made sure to look perfect. He had bought a tuxedo some time before, which he had promised to use only during village parties, so it had to be perfect, without a scratch or peeling.  
On these things, he felt a bit like Ludwig: extremely precise and inflexible. Of course, he often walked around in shirts and dresses with questionable tastes as well as their prints, but at least during the party he wanted his look to be one more reason for people to get a stiff neck to look at him.

He couldn't wait to wear the black dress that fitted his figure perfectly and gave him an even slimmer look, making his taller stature stand out.  
Well, some people would say a 178cm man isn't that tall, but hey! The 2 centimeters he needed to reach six feet, he had to increase something else.

He could feel himself wrapped in the warmth of the place while his thoughts wandered on how much he would have fun (and why not, even have sex), and he kept swallowing tons of beer without noticing it, soaking his tongue with the taste of hops and losing track of time and decency.

"As if that's all that matters. That's enough drinking, Beilschmidt. You're gonna get drunk again," the bartender's voice shook him, but once again, it was too late.  
At the fifth poured mug of beer, Gilbert heard the bartender's words bombard his mind like a strong echo, making his head ache immensely as if he was freezing from the inside.  
He tried to hold it with both hands by placing his elbows on the counter, passing his hands greedily through his hair and almost drowning his fingers in the skin in order to cause a pain that he hoped he would be able to stand up to the main one.

"Aaaah, what a horrible headache! It feels like my brain is about to explode," he complained, until he fell with his head on the counter, emitting an annoying thud and dropping the half-empty mug, but it tipped over.  
The bartender sighed with his eyes to the sky, gently wiping with the damp cloth of disinfectant what Gilbert had dropped.

"I see you're drunk. Again." 

"No, you're wrong! The awesome me is not drunk," he said in a hoarse voice, waving his index finger quickly in front of the bartender's stunned face, who put his hands forward and gradually moved his face away from Gilbert's finger in fear that it might hurt him. Drunk, isn't it?

The white shirt emanated a foul-smelling smell of beer that characterized Gilbert like all the others who were in the club.  
The albino's head was literally about to burst: the noise of other Germans' loud voices, noises of mugs and glasses touching each other for a toast, fists that made the weak wooden tables shiver and nauseating body odors.  
His eyesight had doubled and the young man seemed to be in an almost vegetative state, leaning against the palm of his hand as he gradually squinted his eyelids to try to focus on a random spot to feel sure he still had possession of his body.

"Everything stinks in here! Ew, I'm going out. You all stink, everybody! It's so un-awesome!" With arrogance, Gilbert's poisonous beer-flavored words were squealed quickly and desperately like a snap of fingers, attracting the attention of the club's bigwigs.

"Hey kid! Mind your own business if you want to see the sunrise again tomorrow." Gilbert had his back to him, but felt a thrill of excitement and challenge as he walked slowly down his spine.  
He had started to sweat cold, he did not know whether because of alcohol or because of the voice of his conscience that had frozen every muscle in his body, telling him not to react and stay silent.  
He tried to suppress it. He turned around pretending to be calm, crossing the gaze of the man who had spoken with thirsty eyes.  
His eyes were large and dark, his large amount of white hair and his dark, disheveled, unkempt beard suggested he was old, but his skin was radiant and cool, although covered with drops of sweat that slipped over it as if it were a waterproof fabric, indicated that he was in fact no more than thirty years old.

His throat was dry and he couldn't speak, his tongue was full of alcohol and a lot of saliva. He felt as if he lacked oxygen and while his heart was leading for the big marathon, he could feel a slight pinch of fear mixed with adrenaline that made his skinny hands shake. He was afraid of many things: losing control, getting hurt. Physical pain, if not followed by pleasure, was one of his worst fears he had always known he could never bear it.

"Like I'm scared of you, big boy! Haha!" The red, thin, evil mouth, now curved into a fake smile, with sparkling teeth and perfectly aligned canines while Gilbert's cold laugh resounded in the strangely silent room, from which after a short time choruses rose up inciting a brawl and taking part in one for one of them.

Gilbert clenched his fists with his foot in front although staggering while his head had clearly surrendered and gave a sign that he could not maintain such lucidity, while his body begged him on its knees not to make such a great effort.  
He didn't even have time to realize that he saw a big hand with white knuckles running down his face, throwing a powerful punch that even though it lasted a short time, he didn't give up making himself heard.  
He gouged out his crimson tearing eyes, shocked. It was as if he had seen his jaw move even though he could only feel the gradual increase of pain on the bone, sure that he would have presented a nice fresh and purple bruise.

He lost his balance when his face turned sharply to the right, barely holding on to his left leg, which was shaking and weak, like his whole body.  
He was sweating again, his arms trembled as did his lower lip, which was now pale and in contrast to his face which bore the color of war, causing his teeth to rub against each other and his nostrils to dilate to give warmth to that frozen body.  
Instinctively, he slowly laid his hand on the affected area, causing a disgusting laughter from the whole place: He saw people scratching their bellies laughing and praising the man who had hit him.  
He didn't miss a moment, the humiliation was too great to be able to stand still without reacting. He didn't think about it and reacted instinctively and then repented shortly afterwards, throwing a punch of response to the big eye of the man who seemed to be about to scream in pain. 

He could feel his heart beating, the club pushing him into a fight, and he could swear that he saw the man's veins get big and bright red, surrounding his high forehead.  
Just when he was preparing for a second attack, the bartender intervened by tightly squeezing the wrists of the two men, almost causing marks, shouting words of reproach to the enemy man that were now incomprehensible to Gilbert.  
His head was spinning like a merry-go-round, his body was tired and he was thirsty. He was feeling weak, very fucking weak, dry. God, what a shitty feeling.

"You Beilschmidt, get out of my club. You've already caused too much damage tonight," he said in his teeth, and Gilbert shook his head in confusion, but reluctantly accepting his friend's command.

"I didn't pay you-" 

"You will when you come back, now please go out." He pointed to the door with his hand.

He took a deep breath of resignation, and under the stern gaze of the bartender, Gilbert realized that he would have to leave the place as soon as possible.  
And so he did. He came out, staggering around and his legs looked like overcooked spaghetti. He stumbled, stumbled over a glass bottle and made a tumble and ended up asking questions to the floor.  
He raised his hand weakly, noting a scratch that joined his little finger to his wrist and was colored bright red.

He put his head down. He did not have the strength to stand up, and closed his eyes when he felt drops of dirty, double water fall on his shoulder and his hair.  
Would he have died there? Alone, without even giving everyone a final goodbye? How could someone as awesome as him die in such a stupid and shameful way. No, it wasn't possible, but it was happening.  
He felt his heart slow down, and his nails turn purple from the cold. Her hand was frozen, she couldn't feel her face.

No one could save the hero. Was that it?

///

"You fucking bastard, you finally woke up!" The Italian's ringing voice made Gilbert's ears ring, and he still felt a bit lost and with a heavy head.  
The vision was blurred, but in short, he set fire to it noting that he was standing in front of Feliciano's brother.

"Feliciano's brother? What the hell are you doing here?" He shook his confused head, watching as the Italian began to rage gradually while trying to keep calm by crossing his arms.

"I happen to have a name! Besides, it's not my fault you pass out in front of my store! I think you fell in love with the fucking place, you're always doing your shit here!" He raged with his face turning red, and Gilbert could see him despite the dim, faint light that the streetlight almost broke with the light alternating on and off.

"I don't know your name, and it's not my fault your store is next to my friends' bar!" He answered almost offended, putting a grimace on her face and frowning. This boy was really a cheeky, insolent and rude one. But he could say he was a good person, perhaps.

"Your friends? Oh, yes! The ones who left you out lying on the floor, asshole! I thought you were dead, and if you hadn't got there in time you probably would have ended up dead!" He screamed in his face. He was visibly worried, his face flushed, and the German could hear his heartbeat racing.  
If he was in his situation, he probably would have had the same reaction. The Italian's wheezing breath got confused with the sound of pouring rain and water drops breaking on the asphalt, almost jumping. God, it was raining hard. He could see it by the light of the streetlamp.  
He felt a slight regenerating numbness on his shoulders, only to notice with surprise that a dark colored jacket, perhaps brown, had been laid gently on him.

"oh, sorry. Keep your jacket."

"No. You need it now, asshole" that was kind. Yeah, really kind. He couldn't hold back a little smile with his mouth closed that popped out of his face like a flower in spring, while his still cold hands held his jacket over his shoulders, sinking his fingers into the warm fabric.

"What the fuck are you laughing at? Be serious! Don't you do anything but get drunk?" He asked, albeit in a loud but fairly moderate tone of voice, given the late hour. Lovino looked at the German with eyes that shone with curiosity.

"Hmm? "Oh, let's see... I drink when I'm sad, when I'm happy, when I want to celebrate, when I'm in mourning..." Gilbert continued from listing, looking upwards with his mouth seeds  
open while she counted with her fingers every reason she gave.

Lovino's astonished face with his mouth wide open and his eyes peeped out was priceless at that instant, Gilbert found it almost witty and therefore laughed noisily.

"What the hell are you laughing at? You're always drinking, you're a fucking drunk!" He slapped Gilbert's shoulder more or less painfully, and the German began to massage the affected area.

"Ouch! What was that for? Anyway, today I had a special reason to get drunk," he winked, making Lovino nervous, who crossed his arms and rippled his lips.

"Oh, and shall we hear? There's never a good fucking reason to get drunk." Thundered the other one, releasing his arms and beginning to shake them in the air like a good Italian, expressing his disapproval through bizarre gestures with what has just been said.

"Boy, those hands of yours have distracted me." Gilbert grabbed Lovino's arms and lowered them.

"oh, here! I finally managed to lose feelings for the boy that a very dear person likes" gave one of his most dazzling smiles to Lovino who in response turned his gaze away from Gilbert's face, but he could see a slight reddening on his chubby cheeks and lips writhing greedily, reminding him of himself as he searched for a suitable position to relax on the sofa.

Lovino had no real motivation to feel embarrassed, but the friendly and confidential way Gilbert was confiding in, caught him off guard and caused an unexpected reaction: the dusting of poppy petals on his cheeks. He didn't know how to act, so embarrassment took over.  
Of course, it had nothing to do with Gilbert's pure, innocent smile, and nothing to do with the way the albino's sparkling, perfect teeth reflected in his olive-colored eyes.  
No, no! He didn't waste time on this shit, pff. That smile didn't embarrass him at all.

"Okay, listen here-"

"Why should I?" Gilbert was interrupted by Lovino's surly tone, which seemed almost funny to him. He could see that the Italian was uncomfortable.

"Are you embarrassed? Well, I can understand that in the face of so much awesomeness, but you seem to be overdoing it a bit," he put his fingers together to show Lovino the hypothetical amount of embarrassment that was gripping him, but he only puffed shyly as he moved his eyes and glanced at Gilbert's hair.

"They're still dry after almost a month," Lovino said quietly, chewing on his lips as he nodded slowly scratching his chin.

"Hey! Don't change the subject! Come on, listen to me! I want to have friends when I'm drunk!" He whined.

"Who says I'm your friend, you bastard?" The Italian moved his arm hastily, freeing himself from Gilbert's light grasp in need of support and affection.

"You're listening to me."

"No, I'm not!"

"But you're answering my questions."

"That's not true, you bastard, you're crazy" nervous spit started clicking with his index finger in the corner of his head, his mouth half open with his narrowed brows.

"Phew! Have you no pity for a drunk man? Listen to me, please!" How fucking irritating could his complaining like a kindergarten kid be? Too much, according to Lovino. But he was obviously willing to listen to him even though he wouldn't admit it even under torture.

"Okay, tell me fucking bastard! But make it short, it's 4:00 in the morning and I don't want to listen to your bullshit!"

There was still no trace of dawn, the sun seemed to be losing a battle against the darkness as he was still hiding under his mother's arms.  
The faint orange light was almost absent and Gilbert noticed with surprise that it had stopped raining. He could see bright stars in the sky, which completed that beautiful picture of colors.  
He was sitting there with the least expected to meet. They were in a confidential tone, and even though the Italian was a little reluctant to listen, Gilbert still felt he was being considered.  
Their shoulders were resting against each other, and their touch gave physical warmth to both. Lovino wore a very thin orange jacket, with transparent buttons that left his neck unbuttoned and barely covered his chest.  
His warm color, his warm and reassuring skin Gilbert thought he could smell the saltiness coming from his tanned skin and his wavy chocolate-colored hair.

"It took me almost a month, but I did it! I don't feel anything for this person anymore. I thought that to make the one I care about happy, I should make an effort and abandon my prey. You don't always win, even if it's not fantastic to admit it" he looked towards the brightest star in the sky, resting his head gently on Lovino's shoulder.

And to his surprise, he wasn't rejected.

"Wow, you potato bastard. That's very noble of you." Lovino said, in an oddly quiet and calm tone. He was really impressed by such an action from who looked like an annoying drunk piece of shit.

"I don't think I would have been able to do it," continued Lovino, looking up at the stars.  
He could feel Gilbert's hair tickling his neck, but it didn't bother him. He felt company and no longer loneliness.

"I know. I'm awesome, you know? Of course only guys like me would do something like that!" He laughed again, victorious, and Lovino puffed resigned.  
Alas, he couldn’t believe that he was serious. Even though he didn't know him at all, it looked like he already knew who he was.

"Would you ever want to have children?" 

"What kind of question is that, you albino asshole?" He shook Gilbert's head off his shoulder, roughly.

"Ouch! Come on! Aren't we being confidential now?" He replied, looking Lovino in the eyes as a sign of defiance.

"Yes, but still not- yes, if you must know!" He moved his hand in the air faking despair while his face shone. No one had ever asked him that, and the first one to do it had to be a drunk German? What a shame! Few really cared about his life.

"Great, me too! I can see them already, my little ruby-eyed babies running around the bathtub throwing their mama's meatballs in the air, haha!" He giggled. Boy, he looked just like a baby.

"Sure, keep dreaming! Who would ever have children with you?" Oh, man. Maybe he shouldn't have said that.

"Eh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean that-"

"Oh, all right. I'll adopt them then!" He replied excited, but Lovino could see how the dumb-headed smile that was printed on his face emanated sadness. This time Lovino thought he'd been rude, a little too much.

Lovino put his head on Gilbert's shoulder, though a little embarrassed. The surprised albino greeted the gesture and smiled, intrigued by the funny curl that was sticking out wildly from the Italian's hair and was close to his face.

"You didn't tell me your name."

"Bastardo, I'm Lovino"

"Oh, prinzessin. It's a really sexy name," he winked at the Italian, who pretended not to see so he wouldn't get nervous and fuck him up the ass.

The silence that was created was almost relaxing. They heard only a handful of crickets singing, a light warm wind moving their hair and birds chirping, while faint rays of sunshine settled on their faces and we saw the first cars running through the streets not at all crowded.

"You were great to listen to me" gave a big but stupid smile.

"Tsk! I only did it because my grandfather said to listen to drunks and don't treat them badly!" He moved his hand, moving his face that slightly blushed and clicking with his long tongue on the palate.

"Your grandfather dictates your laws of life? Besides, I'm not drunk!"

"Yes and yes" he simply answered and then got up and opened the doors.

"Where are you going?" Churches.

"To work?" He answered sarcastically, staring into the eyes of the curious albino. "I'll call your brother to come get you so you can get your ugly hairy ass off my steps."

"Hey! My ass ain't hairy! Do you want to see it?" He smirked, raising the right corner of his mouth and bending his right eyebrow.

"Fuck no! God, even if they paid me, I wouldn't see your ass! Now wait for your brother and don't piss me off." 

"But I'm not drunk! I don't need Luddy!"

"So go home alone and don't drive me crazy" was about to close the glass door, slamming it, of course, when he was blocked by Gilbert's arm.

"Hey prinzessin, so far you've been acting nice and now you're treating me bad? It's not awesome!"

"I only told you I was good because my grandfather would have wanted this. As he was such a bast- it doesn't matter, go now," he sighed, wrinkling his forehead with his right hand and squinting.

"But-"

"Fuck you, Grandpa! Are you sending me all these weird vampire-looking guys from Twilight?" Lovino huffed, grabbing the broom and dusting the floor with uncertain strokes, to clean it of some shoe soles stains.

Door closed, slammed in the face for the second time. Man, he must have really loved slamming doors. As he walked, Gilbert felt his head spin and he could hardly stand upright. Yes, he was definitely still drunk, and decided he was going to call his brother this time, without bothering poor, exasperated Lovino.

The second meeting with Lovino seemed like the first. Treated badly, then well, then bad again, but all this left a mark on him. He seemed to be becoming addicted to that boy. He was sure that even seeing him once a day would change his day. He was also fun with his aggressive and slightly rude attitude.

He smiled again, thinking back. Yes, that was definitely the beginning of a beautiful friendship.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And again I’m uploading late. Oof, I’m sorry. I really had no time to translate the chapter but here it is! Hope you enjoy,and if you find mistakes don’t be shy and tell me :)
> 
> Sei bellissimo: you are beautiful
> 
> Thank you my awesome readers!

A warm ray of faint light settled on Gilbert's face, and soon he slowly opened his eyes. He felt tired and still sleepy, but decided to keep an eye at the alarm clock on the bedside table on his right; the red light of the rectangular numbers marked a precise time, 5:50 a.m.   
Shit, it was early in the morning and he had woken up so soon just because Ludwig had forgotten as usual, to close the curtains of the huge window the albino had in his room.   
Well, let's say his brother had forgotten to lock them only in his case, because as far as he was concerned, he used to use sunlight as a natural alarm clock, so he jumped out of bed at first light.  
Gilbert was still wrapped in his warm woollen blanket as he held his arms folded under his head as if he were lying on the beach on a beach towel.   
The birds were chirping and he thought that Gilbird could make some great friends (though not as great as he did), but his thoughts were chased away like a cloud of smoke by a gust of fresh wind that moved the curtains and leaves of the plants that were near the window.

He remembered little or nothing about the night before, but he was pretty sure he was drunk again, as he didn't remember coming home at all, but he did when he realized he was wearing horrible checkered pajama bottoms while he usually slept in classic boxer shorts.  
Shit, Ludwig changed him again. Seriously, that shit really sucked, he felt like a baby still sucking milk out of his mother's tit, but at the same time he was pretty convinced that all the drunks were a little bit like infants.

He got up from the bed as the room was gradually illuminated by the sun, and laid his white feet on the icy marble floor and then grabbed a pair of white cotton socks and put them on quickly, still with a sense of exhaustion.  
Staggering slightly, despite not as much as the night before, he went to the bathroom and looked in the mirror, curling his nose and narrowing his brows, causing small expression lines to appear on his forehead.

"Ouch, that's really un-awesome" he spat almost disgusted, reluctantly realizing that his voice was gone just like his awesomeness: Hair disheveled and knotted, face paler than usual and rendered with some form of depth thanks to the terrible dark circles around his eyes, upper lip with lumpy blood at the left corner and to round off, he noticed a beautiful bruise of a thousand shades located right in the middle of his jaw.

"My jaw! Come on, it was my favorite part of my body and now it's ruined!" He whimpered, touching his bruise, incredulous. "well, it’s not my only favorite part, I also like my hair, my eyes, my face in general, my body, my di- well, nevermind" he shook his face again, closing his eyes and moving away from the mirror.

Man, he drank a lot of beer last night. He probably got into a fight with somebody and not remembering who it was, maybe he'd meet him again and say hello, the man would have recognized him and he would definitely remember the fight and punch him somewhere else.   
He rinsed his face, focusing on the sound of cold water flowing from the tap, and then felt a feeling of freshness once the water came into contact with his face, and then wetted the ends of his hair as well.

"I'll have a shower later, I don't feel like it now" lazily, he went back to his room and sat on the bed. With his head looking up at an unidentified point, he tried to squeeze his mind and try to remember something.   
All he could remember, however, was not certain it had happened. It could simply have been a dream or some bizarre thought running up and down his head.

"Well, let's see," he whispered in a low voice, with his mouth half-open as the cause of a known level of concentration that in him was limited only to cases like this, "I remember going to the bar, then I obviously drank..."

"Oh! Lovino? Why do I remember Lovino? Wait, how do I know his name?" A perplexed expression rose on Gilbert's face, making him realize that something had indeed happened between the two of them.

"Shit! What if I molested him again? He's gonna hold it against me for the rest of his life!" He punched the air, and his gaze was caught by his diary lying gloriously on the desk.

"Is that thing still there? I thought I put it away," he got up, took the diary and grabbed a pencil and then wrote some sentences with his messed-up handwriting on the new milk-white page.

_"Dear awesome diary, I know his name is Lovino! Isn't that an awesome name? Obviously not up to mine, but it is pretty awesome. I was definitely with him last night drunk to find out his name, I hope I didn't molest him. Oh! What if this bruise I get is nothing more than a sign inflicted on me by the enemy while I was saving the Italian princess? Well, surely far more noble and awesome than fighting in a filthy, penniless local!"_

He quickly put the diary and pencil away, throwing them into the small wooden drawer which he closed with a firm hand movement.  
Gilbert ran his hand through his hair, looking at the time again: 7:00. Well, he usually slept until 11, but he was sure he wouldn't be able to fall asleep for a few hours, so he might as well make the day more productive than usual.  
He came out of the room with his stomach rumbling. It was to be expected, since he'd surely gone to sleep fast. An then he ran into the kitchen, attracted by the smell of coffee, which indicated that Ludwig was obviously already awake.

"Good morning, Ludwig! Today is going to be a wonderfully productive day since I woke up early!" He laughed loudly, watching his brother holding a small cup of coffee between his big hands.

"Oh, good morning, Gil. I hope you slept well after last night's fuss," he approached the cup to his mouth, enjoying the taste of coffee as he flipped through the pages of the gazette.

"Fuss? What are you talking about?"

"You called me to pick you up. You said you didn't want to upset Lovino any further" his blue eyes seemed to be scanning Gilbert, who was more confused than ever, standing barefoot on the threshold of the kitchen door.

"Oh, I don't remember anything," he said, scratching his head.

"I can imagine."

"Aren't you angry?"

At Gilbert's question, Ludwig shook his shoulders as he continued to read the newspaper and adjusted the glasses he used to read.

"No. Life is yours, do what you want. Sure, I'd like you to learn to be more independent and think about the consequences, but I'm sure one day you'll learn. Drinking is fine, but getting drunk like this is too much. We know what it means" he looked up through his glasses, looking Gilbert in the eyes for just under a minute, and then back to what he was doing. 

Gilbert twisted his lips, pouring himself a cup of coffee.

"Hey! Where are the big cups? What are these Barbie-style cups?" He complained.

"Feli brought me some Italian coffee. You don't have to drink so much of it because it doesn't make you sleep at night, that's why you drink it in small cups" Ludwig’s wise and calm voice, however, didn't please Gilbert, who took his milk cup and poured in it all that was in the coffee pot under the upset look of his brother.

"Haha! And you believe this shit? It's only business, they're just saying that to get you to buy these micro-cups," he talked smart-ass, giving a generous sip to the cup.

"Whatever you say, Gil."

"Oh, c’mon! Today however, there’s no time to sleep, we're in the middle of Oktoberfest and tonight we're celebrating" he laid the empty cup on the table under Ludwig's astonished gaze, and then wiped his mouth with the palm of his hand, surprised by the good taste of the coffee that didn't taste of water mixed with coffee like the one he used to drink every morning.

"Oh, that's what I wanted to talk to you about. I'm not here tonight. I'm taking Feli out."

"You too? Man, this is the oktoberfest of couples!" He puffed, casting an almost desperate look at his brother.

"What do you mean? What about your friends?

"You go with little Feli, Antonio goes with Belle and Francis goes with Arthur. They all go together in something like a double-date" he explained, almost disappointed. "They're becoming weaklings since they got engaged, I thank God I’m not in a relationship."

Ludwig rolled his eyes, thinking of the shameless way he was lying in that last sentence. He knew very well that this was all Gilbert wanted, and that he was tired of being alone like a dog on every holiday.  
What he had read in his diary had made him understand why every time on Valentine's Day he would stay holed up at home with rock music blasting at full blast or why he would go away at Christmas when it was time to kiss under the mistletoe.

"You can come with me and Feli if you like."

"I just told you I don't want to be the third wheel! Wait, I can invite Lovino!"

"Are you serious?" Ludwig raised an eyebrow, and gave himself a facepalm. Oh no, he was definitely making a big mistake.

"Yeah, why not? I can take him with Francis and Antonio! Wait, but they're ex... whatever, it doesn't matter! We'll have lots of fun anyway!" He lowered his fist as a sign of victory, smiling in defiance.  
He was thinking to himself and loudly, but it didn't matter! He had finally found a solution and would have had a good time with his friends.

He took his cell phone, sent a message to Francis:

_"I'm coming with Lovino, count me in!"_

Then, he put the phone down.

Oh, but wait a second. He literally had a plan with someone who knew nothing about it. Well, I'm sure he would have agreed to it, but he didn't know yet!

"Hey Lud! Would you tell little Feli to tell Lovino I want to go out with him?"

"Oh, Gilbert. So you're serious."

///

"Lovino, please listen to me!"

"No fucking way! that ugly mug won't see my face!" Lovino broke away from his brother's grip, who with eyes wide open and bright, begged him to listen to him and stand still for at least a minute.

Lovino felt guilty for a second, and decided to please his brother by taking a seat on the chair and sitting with his pelvis against the strawboard.

"Why the fuck do you want me to go with that?" He raged, almost gritting his teeth.

His face was on fire, mixed with embarrassment for fear that the albino would remember the evening and his unusually kind manner, but also red because of the nervousness that kept him tied around its finger because he was angry at the German for having organized an embarrassing plan on his own.

"Lovino, Gil cares so much! He said he likes you as a friend and he wants to have fun with you because you're nice! Isn't that sweet?" Feliciano smiled shyly, while his eyes could express all the love in the world.

"He's a good person! I promise!"

"You don't have to promise me shit, stupid! You're not the problem, he’s the fucking asshole! He's coming into my life like a missile and there's nothing I can do to stop him!" He slammed one foot on the floor, scaring his brother who seemed almost intimidated by his tone of voice from getting quarrelsome.

He thought that at any moment he might punch him in the face, but he knew that Lovino would never have peace to commit violence, especially against his brother.   
Feliciano couldn't understand why Lovino put up so much resistance. When he forced him to go out with Antonio, he didn't have so many tantrums and didn't complain so much. Oh, and the date with the Spaniard had a loving purpose and not a friendly one.

"Is that a problem? I mean, you need new friends!" He suggested, smiling lovingly like a mother to her baby.

"I have friends in Italy, that's all I need. And I can't understand why that white German bastard who legit looks he's come out of a grave, asks me out with him!"

"He's very kind! Who knows, you might even fall in love and-"

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

Uh-oh. Feliciano could see his brother warming up like a hot plate, or a hair straightener, or a nice piece of pizza- in short, anything that can get so hot that it hurts and burns you up just by looking at it.  
Lovino tried in vain to keep calm by breathing deeply, but the outbursts were literally setting fire to his Zen garden. Seriously? That idiot was serious? Inviting someone you want to become your friend (without hoping for too much) to a stupid party that you'd surely come out of drunk again and then get dragged home. Nice fucking move, Beilschmidt.

"No. I'm not going, and that's the end of it." With surprisingly calm, Lovino merely scratched the tip of his nose and responded to his brother in an almost distracted manner.

"But Fratello-"

"I said no, no is no!" He got up. Man, Feliciano could feel burned just watching his brother throw the wooden chair to the ground.

"It was Nonno’s chair." The little Italian boy's gaze gradually became saddened.

"Let's not think about that bastard now. I'll fix it," he picked up the chair that had the back split, and leaned it against the white wall.

"Please Lovino, go with Gilbert! Please, I beg you!" Feliciano reached out his hands in prayer, approaching his brother and shaking his hands in front of his steaming face.

"I said no! Enough!"

"Please, please, please!"He had begun to whine insistently, clinging to his brother's leg preventing him from walking. 

"All right, I'll go! Now get off my fucking leg and stop crying like a fucking kindergarten baby !" Lovino shook his leg, and Feliciano fell off it quickly.

Turning the other way, he started giggling. It didn't take much to force Lovino. That in fact, deep in his heart, he had wanted to go from the start?

Well, I don't think we'll ever know.

///

Gilbert looked at himself in the mirror again, but this time was him doing a thousand different poses and posing as a swimsuit model. He slowly passed his hands over his chest, feeling the carved abs and pecs that were clearly visible even from under the white shirt.   
He wore the beautiful tuxedo he had talked about so much, and the graceful way the pitch black jacket rested on his wide, thin shoulders was extremely high class.  
He used to fix the small black bow tie with both hands, while sometimes he would pass his hand over his pants to fix them, since they were slightly wrinkled.

"Damn. I am more elegant than I remembered," he exclaimed, continuing to mirror himself. The golden frame of the mirror precisely contoured his perfect image, and the freshly polished black shoes gave the young man an even more regal air.

"Gilbert, stop staring at yourself in the mirror" Ludwig came out of the hall, fixing his tie for the last time.

"Oh, you get me this time, don't you?" He still laughed noisily, raising one corner of his lip as he used to do, while Ludwig looked away from him because of the slight embarrassment he felt when he was caught doing shamelessly provocative poses.

If that mirror had been alive, it would have had so much to tell.

"I think it's time to go, don't you?"

"You bet, Lud. I can't keep the princess waiting."

He left a few extra sunflower seeds for Gilbird and then told him to be good, and immediately locked the apartment door following his brother in the big black Mercedes.

"I'll drive!"

Gilbert rushed behind the wheel without even waiting for Ludwig's reaction, but he was just as quick to ruin with his shoes the precious fake leather mats that his brother had been carefully repairing and cleaning for weeks before.  
Direction: Munich city centre.  
They didn't live very far from the centre, they lived in a fairly small but rather cosy house on the outskirts of town.   
The roads were perfectly smooth, holes in the asphalt were rare and this allowed even the most reckless Italians to drive in a perfectly regular way without starting to do car races worthy of Sebastian Vettel.

Gilbert had always thought he was lucky to have been born and raised in Germany. He was already very messy of his own, and a country as messy as him, would literally plunge him into a state of aberrant sloppiness. His room was already very poorly cared for, and the house was only maintained in a state of decency because of Ludwig's excessive care.

And here it is at last, a festively dressed monk who had replaced its grey order with a light colored chaos.

There was noise, laughter, flying beer and huge tents full of colorful lights and filled with deafening music that made him proud of his nation and of being German, despite the terrible sorrow that every German was carrying on its shoulders because of terrible events in past history.  
Imagine how awesome it can be: all the bad things breaking down and everyone dancing arm in arm as if there was no tomorrow, all smelling the same beer, all really the same for just one day. 

He took a breath with all his lungs, almost savoring the festive air that enveloped the city like a thin bridal veil. It wasn't going to last forever, and Gilbert, this time more than any other year, was determined to enjoy every single moment of the big, fat party.

"Here we go! Where are the little guys?" Gilbert got out of the car, slamming the door powerfully but distractedly.

"They'll be late...as usual," he replied, breathing deeply and with his eyes closed trying not to think about how his car door was a daily victim of Gilbert's violent arm.

"How the hell can you tolerate being late? I would have already freaked out” he replied almost aggressively, literally unable to understand how his brother could not get nervous.

"When you really love a person, you also love their flaws."

"Bullshit. If you love a person you love them because they're good for you and they have behavior you can tolerate." 

"Think as you like, Gilbert." He shook his shoulders, and the two remained silent for a good half an hour before seeing from afar two medium height figures of Mediterranean phenotype, one whimpering and looking as if he were on the verge of crying while the other was trying his hand at what Gilbert affectionately called "the dance of the Italians", which consisted of moving his arms in strange and fast gestures.

"I still wonder why the fuck I decided to come! I wasted more than two hours trying to figure out the fucking road, and I ran out of gas too! You know I ain't got no money in less than two weeks to fill it up !"

"Ve, sorry big brother! But I didn't remember the road well, it's not my fault!"

"I know it's not your fault, stupid! It's these fucking German streets that are all fucking the same, They have nothing to distinguish them!”

"Um, there are road signs" Gilbert suggested.

"Shut up, nobody asked you," Lovino replied, casting a murderous glance at the albino, but he found it all but intimidating, thinking how funny it was and sometimes even quite cute.

"Ciao Luddy! Sei bellissimo!" Feliciano said in a harmonious voice and then threw his arms around his neck holding on to his toes, while the blond German slowly blushed and scratched the back of his neck with his right hand trying to reduce the embarrassment dictated by the affectionate hug, while with the other hand he gave friendly pats on the Italian's shoulder.

"Don't make too much fuss in public, you two! Lovino and I will join the others now!" Gilbert was excited, and he quickly grabbed the man's hand with a perennial frown on his face, which grazed his eyes astounded by the hasty and unexpected action.

"Who else are you talking about?"

"What, Feliciano didn't tell you? There's also Francis, Arthur, Belle and Antonio!"

Oh. My. God. When that name was pronounced, Lovino got pissed off again, violently shaking Gilbert's hand and sinking his fingernails into his flesh. The bastard must have felt pain, very fucking pain.

"Take it easy! What's this for?" Gilbert quickly freed himself from Lovino's handshake and then kissed his own hand as if his lips contained some kind of cure for the excruciating pain he was feeling.

"Look what you've done! Now my hand has your fingernail marks on it!" He complained 

"Damn it, that’s what you deserve for not telling me my ex was here and that it's some kind of a triple-date, you bastard, but what did you think you were doing?" He barked, clenching his fists and throwing powerful slaps at Gilbert's back, trying to run away from that stalker.

Nice, huh? The roles were reversed now!

"I didn't think I was doing anything! I only invited you because..."

"Why did you feel lonely being with engaged couples and then decide to use me as a spare tire to boost your fucking ego?" Gilbert could hear the sound of Lovino's teeth rubbing against each other, and his hot, wheezing breath filled with anger settling on his neck.

Hell, it was a fucking Chinese dragon!

Gilbert tried to cover himself with Lovino's arms and kept slapping him on the back, but he could do little and nothing despite the fact that he had noticed with relief that they were weaker and therefore less painful.

It hadn't occurred to him, however, that Lovino might perceive this version. No, no! It was all wrong! He just invited him to make friends with us and now he was beating him up because he felt used.

It was all so un-awesome, and the two of them had apparently become the main attraction of the party as they caught the eyes of the Germans who usually remained impassive even in front of a billboard with a naked woman.

The two of them were so focused in their discussion that they didn't even notice that their brothers had gone elsewhere.

"What the fuck, these fucking Germans like to put their shitty eyes on anything that moves or what?" Lovino stopped trying to kill Gilbert, giving the latter a breath of relief.

"Is it really okay if your ex is here?" Gilbert asked, ignoring Lovino's previous question.

"What would you do if I invited your ex?"

"Oh, I'd be cooler and more awesome than usual to gnaw at her, show her the nice piece of German ass she missed out on!" He patted his ass, giggling and noticing how Lovino had crossed his arms and raised his eyebrow in a perplexing yet unnerved way.

"Be my awesome friend tonight, make him jealous! Not gonna lie, you look hot even if you are not as handsome as me, but you can say like -hey spanish bastard, look! I'm with the awesome and hot Gilbert and you're just being tremendously jealous of me being with him-" the narcissistic tone Gilbert spoke in, made Lovino roll his eyes and making him think he had just made the worst choice of his life in deciding to go out with him, even though he was relieved that they weren't alone.

"Except for the first three words, it doesn't sound like anything I could fucking say."

"You'll learn, you'll learn"

Now no one was looking at them, everyone had gone their own way and continued to celebrate without caring about the two noisy men. No murderous looks and no curious Germans, great.

"So will you come with me?"

"All right, you bastard, don't expect too much from me."

"Danke Lovi! We're gonna have so much fun!" He hugged Lovino in a fraternal way, and the Italian seemed almost to reciprocate the hug even though he didn't feel like it.

///

This time his friends were already there, sitting at a table under a tent offering beer specialities and some Swiss cheese.

"So Gilbert's bringing Lovino?" Arthur asked, taking a bite of the piece of cheese.

"Oui. I'm quite surprised, actually, but I'm sure those two have great potential as friends."

"I don't think so, amigo. They're too different."

"Mon cher, are you being jealous? Think not to neglect the beautiful woman at your side" Francis smiled and winked at Belle, who giggled embarrassed by the compliment, and she covered her mouth with her small hand.

"I'm not jealous and I don't neglect mi amor" he placed a kiss on Belle's cheek without looking away from Francis, making Belle feel at that moment like the general center of attention.

"Ew, enough you two! Keep your bloody business at home!" Arthur made a grimace of disgust. But when he met Francis’ look, intent on giving him loving glances, he felt a strong sensation of vomit rising from his stomach.

"We're here! Sorry to keep you waiting, but the Italians were late!" Gilbert entered, posing as the king of the party and holding Lovino's arm firmly, which seemed to be about to erupt like a volcano.

"Oh, all right. Time went by so fast we didn't notice you were late!" Francis Rise embarrassed by scratching the back of his head, knowing that they had actually arrived exactly 5 minutes before the two guys.

"Now can youfucking let go of my arm??" Lovino did not wait for an answer, and quickly moved his arm and then kissed Belle's hand, who blushed.

"Oh Lovino, mon ami! Careful, you'll make Antonio jealous!" Francis said winking at Lovino and then looking at Antonio who although seemed calm and calm, Francis was sure he hid a big sense of guilt inside him.

"I don't give a fuck, Belle is my friend," the Italian thundered.

"Awesome! Now, let's get up out of this boring place and go somewhere more fun."

The others listened to Gilbert, and everyone moved in unison. The group struggled to stay together as most of the time Arthur and Francis who stopped to squabble like a married couple, because of the unconventional and audience-friendly phrases Francis whispered in the other’s ear. The rest of the time they stopped because Antonio met some acquaintances and went to greet them.

"Now it's our turn to stop! We'll catch up with you later!" Gilbert nodded to the others, who soon continued walking while he and Lovino stopped in front of the amusement park entrance.

"I have an idea! If I drop all the cans, I win your phone number" the albino grabbed the toy gun and tried his hand at it, without even waiting for an answer from Lovino.

"You'll never make it anyway!"

And in fact, he didn't succeed and that made him quite disappointed. Usually he always succeeded, but this time he failed miserably just like a loser.

"Watch how you properly do it, you bastard!" Lovino took the gun out of his hands, pulled the trigger and made all the cans fall with one shot on the first attempt without using the other two fake bullets. Then, he blew on the gun’s barrel as if it was smoking.

"How did you do that? It's because you Italians-"

"If you come up with a mafia joke, I'll stick this gun in your mouth," he put the toy down, collecting the prize. He chose a small, space-saving puppet because he wasn't going to carry a huge teddy bear all night.   
The stuffed animal was white with purple eyes, and Lovino gave it to Gilbert without even looking at his face because he felt a little embarrassed doing it.

"Is that for me? Aw Yes, you really like me."

"No bastard, it's just that he's as ugly as you so I think you can make the perfect couple," he slowly moved his eyes in Gilbert’s direction, and when he came across his smile strangely joyful and not fake or flirting, he felt his face slowly warm up. It was beautiful. The way his mouth curved into a happy smile, full of imperfections but perfect at that moment, lit a small light of joy in Lovino’s heart, and he could do nothing but smile with his mouth closed, surprising even Gilbert who brought home a small victory.

"ok now give me your phone number" he said, with a serious face that almost made Lovino worried. Woah, he never thought the albino would ever pull a face that didn’t had his dumb smile on it. 

"No, you lost!"

"Phew! All right, then let's go to eat!"

Food is not refused, and Lovino would hardly have done that. And most of all, he'd have lied if he'd said he wasn't even a bit hungry.

Gilbert took him by the arm again, taking him to a small outdoor fast food restaurant serving freshly cooked sauerkraut and excellent German beer.

"You bastard, I don't eat German shit!" Lovino took the sauerkraut plate and the beer away from him, but Gilbert approached him in a flash.

"Try them on! They're good!"

"Fucking forget it."

The German made shrugs, beginning to eat from Lovino's plate. God, he was so greedy.

"Who authorized you to eat off my plate?" The Italian yelled at him.

"Hey, prinzessin! You said you didn't want it, so now I'm going to eat it" he made a grimace and laughed annoyingly, and Lovino put his head on his arm with thoughtfulness.

It wasn't that bad. He had barely seen Antonio's face and hadn't even greeted him, so in the end he and Gilbert were really alone.   
He looked distractedly at Gilbert as he ate and opened his beer. The more he watched him, the more he hoped he wouldn't remember the night before. He didn't want to run into embarrassing situations or explain his unusual kindness to a bastard like him.

"Are you done yet? That's impossible! You're as skinny as a nail!" Surprised, Lovino grabbed Gilbert's arm and traced its diameter by joining his thumb and middle finger around it, to prove how skinny he was. 

"There are those who can and there are those who can't, and I can."

"Count yourself lucky!"

"Oh, you bet. Now give me the money, I'll go pay."

"What the fuck are you saying? Why should I give you the money?"

"Well, because you ordered food, didn't you?"

"Are you kidding me? You ate it!"After hearing Lovino's words, Gilbert looked down at the two empty beer bottles as well as the two plates of food.

"Ohhhh, sorry. You're right, I got distracted." He laughed embarrassed, with a dumb smile on his face, then he began scratching the back of his head.

"Well, it was a nice evening... thank you, I guess." 

"Are you kidding me? It's not even over yet, baby," Gilbert replied promptly, dragging Lovino in front of the roller coaster at the amusement park.

"Are you fucking serious? You're gonna puke up here after all you've eaten!" The albino ignored Lovino's warning and rushed to buy two tickets for the roll coasters.

"What makes you think I want to go up there?"

"Well, not that you have a choice," Gilbert shrugged in response.

the two took their seats on the last seats of the merry-go-round, since the German kept nagging Lovino saying how much the seats in the last row were awesome because no one was looking at you and because you could feel better all the adrenaline.

"Prinzessin, I hope you're not afraid" he joked.

"Of course I'm not afraid! And don't call me that!"

"Sure, sure"

Actually, he was a little scared. It was certainly not the first time he was in an amusement park, but it was the first time he was in front of such a high and scary roller coaster.  
The merry-go-round began. The first round turned out to be quiet, but when we reached the famous highest point, Lovino felt suffocated.

Slowly, the car climbed up and then stopped at the tip for a minute that never seemed to end. He was a little scared, so he started to squeeze his hands tightly on his belt. He had purple fingers, white knuckles and was literally sweating cold. On the other side, Gilbert seemed at ease and very excited while clamoring for the adrenaline rush.

"Hey, I got something to tell you."

"What bastard?" Lovino said quickly, trying to hide the frightened tone in his voice. He prayed to all the saints that it wasn't some kind of romantic moment like in American movies.

"I took the phone out of your pocket and now I have your number."

"YOU DID WHAT?"

The words he shouted were lost in the wind, while the shaky wagon went down with an unprecedented speed, while Lovino with sweaty hands still tightened his belt and pushed his shoulders against the backrest, so as to avoid tipping over in every way. When the wagon came to a sudden stop, Lovino got off the merry-go-round with weak legs and his head spinning, supported by Gilbert who was laughing loudly.

"Oh, of course you weren't scared."

"Shut up! I was just surprised you stole my phone without me noticing!"

"Well, it didn't take long since you were frozen because of fear."

"Shut up or I'll rip your head off, you bastard!"

“Oh Lovino, my awesome stomach hurts so bad”

“I told you, you never listen to me! don't even allow yourself to throw up on me!”

"Francis, you French frog, what bloody hell are you looking at?" Francis and Arthur were sitting at a table very close to the entrance to the park. The Englishman was ready to yank him, when he noticed that Francis was watching the short Italian and the skinny German arguing noisily, he relaxed.

"Shh, Arthur. I'm looking at them." He pointed slowly at Gilbert and Lovino, without diverting attention from the two of them

"So what? They're arguing, I don't see what's so special about it." Arthur got up from the table he was sitting on, stretching his arms and then put his hands in his pockets.

"What? Can't you see?"

"What the hell are you talking about? What am I not seeing?"

"L'amour.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you are wondering about where did Antonio and Belle went, well it’s not that important but they were ordering some food :)


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Thank you so much for reading my story! Please, if you notice grammar errors don’t be shy and tell me. The translator is not perfect, sadly :’(
> 
> Enjoy!!

_"It's the awesome Gilbert here. Yes, earning your phone number by cunning is even more satisfying”_

He pressed the enter key without hesitation as he used to do. He stared at the bright screen of the small cell phone he was holding with both hands, waiting for an answer. Leaving the phone in a place waiting for an answer, as he used to do, was a thought that hadn't occurred to him at that moment at all. He could have dropped the phone somewhere and answered when he felt like it or not answer at all, but he just waited faithfully like a dog waiting for food from its owner.   
Usually he was the one who made the others wait, but being on the other side was fun enough for him.

_"Bastard, it's 1:00 in the morning. How the fuck could you even think of texting me right now? Go to sleep, or those dark circles under your eyes will stay on your ridiculous and ugly face forever."_

Despite the unkind tone of the message received in reply, GIlbert's face lit up more than his cell phone’s screen.

" _I can't sleep :( I drank a whole cup of Italian coffee, and now my wonderful sleep seems not to come" was quick to type on the keyboard._

_"You really are dumber than I thought."_

_"But that makes me unique in your eyes, doesn't it? ;D”_

_"Sure, in another life. And not mine."_

_"Kesesese, I know you've been dying to get a message from me ;)"_

_"What the fuck? What kind of laugh is that? Anyway, no. I'm going to sleep, goodbye."_

_"Wait! I thought you were gonna keep me company tonight D:"_

_"Your poor right hand will keep you company. I can feel its pain in being attached to the body of someone like you. Goodbye I said"_

Lovino lowered the brightness of his cell phone and hid himself under the covers even with his head, to prevent the phone light from waking his brother who was sleeping next to him. He did not wait for an answer from Gilbert, but immediately turned off his cell phone and left him on the wooden bedside table with its crooked leg.

He took a look at the open window, whose thin white curtains were driven by the light but fresh wind that settled on Lovino's olive skin, also giving him unkempt hair that were sweating to the ends. His thoughtful face, his eyelids fluttering at a slower and slower rate.

Lovino had his head on his pillow. He quickly thought back to the night he spent having fun with Gilbert, realizing that he had really enjoyed himself and this had left a positive aura surrounding him.   
Especially the real smiles had warmed his heart, and that guy didn't seem to be so bad even though he was quite irritating in 90% of his attitudes. Sometimes he talked like a narcissist and a smartass, but Lovino actually had mixed feelings about him and a strange desire to get to know him better. Who knows, maybe he was actually a human too.

Gilbert, from his own, was still waiting for an answer to his message. In a moment, he even thought of deleting it thinking he had done something wrong, and with a slight jolt of the heart he turned to his right side and changed his position in the bed.

"C'mon awesome, it's just a message to a friend." He said to himself, while continuing to keep his eyes stuck on the small screen that almost blinded him.

He laid down with his face up, changing position once again. He squeezed the phone in his right hand, leaving his other hand out of the bed. Each time the phone lit up because of a new notification, he hoped it was Lovino and his eyes opened wide with hope. But punctually, it was only the notification of some YouTube video or the most feared, the one that said the PornHub subscription had expired.

But he knew one way or another, he'd get his answer.

///

"Oh, look who's back! Good morning Beilschmidt, about time too! What brings you here? Isn't it a little early for beer?"

Gilbert entered the bar, with a dazzling smile alternating with deep, sleepy yawns. He approached the bartender, placing a 5 euro note and some change.

"Good morning to you. I don't have to drink, but the awesome man right here had some money to pay you back."

"Seriously? Oh, we're actually still a hundred Euros short, though. Where's the rest of the money?" The bartender scrutinized the small amount of money, moving the coins with his finger in a playful way, approaching with a rather amused look. Even though there was still a lot of money missing to make up for all the ones Gilbert still had to give him because of unpaid or half-paid drinks, he was still surprised that he had even brought that humble sum of euros.

"Hey, Sadik! I don't have all that money at the moment, I only brought what I owed last night" Gilbert struck him with his gaze, but he felt slightly humiliated when he saw that all his gaze did was to provoke a loud and warm laughter to the other man, who was tearing with laughter.

"Come on, don't laugh! I have more money actually, but I have to pay back some damage at the florist's shop next door," he said twisting his lip and pointing with his thumb to his left, where Lovino's shop was.

"Oh, what damage? Also psychological damage I suppose" Sadik passed a cloth inside some glasses to clean them, while letting a little clear giggle escape from his mouth.

"Hey!" He gave him a friendly pat on the shoulder "also, to be honest. I thought he was his brother and I literally jumped on him. How un-awesome! Oh, and then I mistreated some of his roses too, if I recall correctly."

"That little guy's roses are pretty expensive, but they're the best in the area. They have the perfect scents, the sparkling red color of the flowers and the care it takes to remove the thorns and make the stem perfect are truly amazing and satisfying. I wonder how long it takes him to to all of that stuff" Sadik replied and then laid the glasses in a row in an elegant composition

"Mate, are you serious? Don't tell me you ever go to him!"

"Of course. I once shared a house with a Greek student, I believe his name was Herakles." He tried to remember, looking up and scratching his chin, "I decided to give him a present on his 18th birthday. What did I do? I had Lovino help me and we made the roses smell quite horrible. We tried to make some roses look new enough even if they were pretty old, but we sprayed a fragrance of rotten egg and other stuff I can't remember. It was brilliant!"

"Oh, that's the Sadik I know! Not the one who chases me away from the bars! How did it turn out? You've never told me this before," Gilbert asked slightly astonished, then sat on the wobbly stool in front of the counter, resting his elbows on it. He was really interested in the story, and was curious about how the Italian had reacted.

"You know I have to look different at night to stand up to the crowd and get respect, and especially because the boss is always around. Anyway, the guy always looked like a zombie and seemed to be asleep. That smell seemed to wake him up though! In the end he threw himself in the bathroom vomiting and changed hosts, but they are memories that I keep with love in my heart" he chuckled, pretending to wipe away an alleged tear.

"And Lovino seriously let you use his roses for this joke? I mean, that's great, but didn't he like chase you all over the neighborhood for wasting his precious flowers?" GIlbert really couldn't explain it. He was really interested, but more than in Sadik's story he was interested in how he had convinced Lovino to do something like this. He was sure that if he had done it, the Italian would probably have deprived him of his five meters.

"What's with all the questions, Beilschmidt? Anyway, I think he told me they were roses a certain Spanish guy gave him and he hated them. Honestly, it takes a lot of intelligence to give flowers to a florist! He complained about all the preparation of the joke, reminding me of how stupid and indecent it was, but I think that in the end he had fun helping me to make it." Sadik smiled at the pleasant memory, and then took his eyes away from Gilbert and greeting to a customer who had just entered the bar.

Gilbert was amused, and gave a happy little puff as he thought of how hilarious it was. Not of Sadik holding the greek’s hair while he was vomiting, but of Lovino helping him to make that infernal joke with passion and apparently reluctance. It was stupid joke, but quite funny. He laughed again, then stood up and put the chair away.

"Off already, young man? If you go to our little florist, say hello! Sometimes I should come back and see him. I like to chat with him."

"Yes, I'm going to the awesome Italian florist! I really must pay him for that rose."

"Oh, today you are in the mood of giving your money back to the others? Bur, I think there's another reason..." the Turkish boy turned a half smile and closed his eyes slightly, raising and lowering his eyebrows in rhythm. Oh, that face! Gilbert hadn't seen that for years.

"Yeah well, I want him to be my friend! It may sound strange, but I think I really need someone like him right now and I want to get to know him better." Gilbert confessed, scratching the back of his head.

"Well, go then! Good luck, he's a really nice guy but still a bit grumpy.

"I don't think he'll continue to behave badly in my awesome presence! He won't resist and he'll surely give up. Let's see if I can have a nice chat with the prinzessin" Gilbert rubbed his hands as a sign of determination, attesting how ready he was for the challenge that deep in his soul he knew was almost impossible, but he didn't give up.

He was sure that from now on, he would be the one who was asked out or talked to and not the other way around. It was time to go back to old habits! It was time to play again, and this time he was sure to win Lovino's friendship.

He left the bar, and took one look at the Italian's shop. He smiled with his mouth closed when he saw that the boy was sitting on the steps of the bar engaged in some curious activity that turned GIlbert's nose up, since he couldn't see what Lovino was trying to do.  
He approached slowly, trying not to be noticed; the closer he got, the more his sight focused on his subject. He had a bizarre sheet of paper resting on his knees and held a pen in his hand, followed by a concentrated expression, with his lips twitched and his brows narrowed. 

Gilbert puffed resigned but amused, realizing that not even concentration could completely erase the frown from his face, but this made him curious to know him better and made him special

"Boo! Prinzessin, what are you doing? What are you doodling, erotic comics?"

Gilbert came up behind Lovino, shaking him in a non-violent manner but making him tremble with fear. Oh, man! He could feel his heart beating wildly, yet he hadn't even scared him that much.  
He tore the piece of paper out of his hands, excited to think he would discover a dark secret of his own. Who knows, maybe he was also a fan of comic books or erotic books! It just seemed a bit strange to him that he liked to doodle on them, Gilbert kept them as if they were precious gold.

"Erotic comics? No, dumbass! It's a fucking crossword puzzle I've been trying to solve for days!" Lovino took the paper back, tearing it in turn from the hands of the German, who seemed almost shocked.

"So no porn comics? A crossword puzzle? That's not awesome!" He crossed his arms, puffing disappointed.

"But who would reads that stuff in the workplace? Yeah, a crossword puzzle. What, you don't know what it is?" Lovino roared, dilating his nostrils and trying to stay calm. He was happy to see Gilbert, however: it would have made him nervous, but at least it would have raised a boring working day.

"Of course I know what a crossword puzzle is, but I've never done one. And porn comics are awesome! Do you have a lot of them? Where do you read them? Come on, can I borrow one of them?" He began to shake Lovino gently as he laughed with his eyes closed because the sun's rays hit him right in the face.

"I don't have any, and I don't read them!"

"I'm telling you, they're awesome, little guy."

"Yeah, for wankers like you. Now let me solve the riddle in peace and alone"

"The awesome me will help you! I'm extremely smart and I understand that for people who don't speak German it must be difficult to complete this kind of games" Gilbert pulled out a pair of bright red rectangular glasses from his pocket, which had orange lenses. He wore them, but had to adjust them several times before he could find the exact position because one cue was slightly crooked.

"But I speak German, asshole! What language are we communicating in now, the Martian language?"

"Well, but your accent isn't very good." Gilbert stretched out, yawning, "Fine! Then tell me what you need, prinzessin." He winked and smiled.

"I need you to leave," Lovino answered hastily, roaring and proudly lifting his middle finger.

"Don't be so mean, come on! Then, let's see the first question..." he sat down next to Lovino on the steps, getting closer and closer to read. He grabbed the crossword puzzle with his hands, hurriedly bringing it closer to his face, and then lowered his eyelids slightly, beginning to study the enigma and rereading the question in order to try to find the correct answer.

"So then... -the natural border between France and Germany -mmh...oh, it's easy, it's the Rhine River!" He grabbed the pen from Lovino's hand whose grip had loosened slightly, and wrote the missing word in a rather messy and shaky manner.

"Oh, then you're not so stupid." Lovino took the paper back, comparing the answer with the solution, noting it was a perfect match. "Though your handwriting suggests you've been put on the electric chair."

He raised an eyebrow and looked at Gilbert through his eyelashes, noticing how he played with his hair and furiously messed it up.

"That cat-like hair you have is so dry, I'm sure it'll fall out one by one. You should stop with the bleaching," said Lovino, diverting attention from the albino and putting it back on the crossword puzzle. He took his pen back, and with a white-out he held in his other hand carefully erased the answer written with the confused and crooked handwriting of the German, and then he wrote the word again with his tidier and less angular writing.

"I don't bleach my hair! What your beautiful eyes are seeing, is my awesome and natural hair color! Pure and white as my soul" Gilbert slicked his hair back, trying to fix it. Lovino ignored the compliment, but was surprised to discover that this was his natural color.

He approached his hair, beginning to explore the hair roots with his tanned fingertips, but trying not to irritate the delicate skin of the other man. In fact, it was true: there was not the slightest trace of hair growth, and the color of his hair seemed almost certain to be the absence of any pigment. He knew that the Germans, or the Nordic people more precisely, sometimes had very light hair, but he had never seen anyone with an almost total absence of melanin.   
his hair was dry to the touch, but it was a dryness given by the excess of hair jelly and not a natural dryness of the hair itself.

He took his hands away from Gilbert's head, and came across his face where a seductive expression was printed.

Gilbert lowered his glasses so that his crimson and almond-shaped eyes, characterized by short white but thick white lashes, crossed Lovino's green, sensual and expressive ones.

"What the hell are you looking at me like that for?"

"Me?" Oh, looks like I've already made an impression. And to think that I just wanted to be your friend, but if you want to-"

"What the fuck are you talking about, retard?" Lovino squashed his right hand on Gilbert's face, who had essentially approached his own, pushing him away. 

"Hey, stop making a big deal out of it! You exaggerate so much because you're playing these grandpa games! Let's have some fun!" The German rose up, yawning again.

"Will you stop yawning, for the love of Christ? And have fun what, I'm working!" Lovino got up too, and with a light pat on his butt, he took away from the little dirt that had accumulated on his brown pants.

"You don't look like you're working, and it's such a great day! Show me your shop, since Sadik told me that you are the king of roses!" Gilbert did not wait for an answer, but threw himself headlong into the room, looking carefully first to the right and then to the left, looking for some interesting activities to do.

With his hand scratching hit chin, his attention was drawn to a small crate of flowers that seemed to have just arrived. Gilbert could smell well their heady scent, who seemed to have wrapped him in a scented hug.

"I didn't give you permission to get here !" Lovino followed him by stomping on the wooden floor, only to stop himself when he saw the German looking at the flowers one by one, in a interested way.

"Hey, leave them alone!" He moved his hand, grabbing the flower from Gilbert's grip "don't ruin any more flowers! I don't know who is worse between you and my brother" he emitted a thoughtful sigh, crossing his arms and looking up to the sky.

"Actually, I'm a gardening expert! And who knows, I'll almost certainly be better than you at taking care of these awesome colorful flowers," he said, giving Lovino a defiant look. His sharp eyes crossed those of Lovino who seemed to show him no mercy.

"Yeah, right, and I'm a princess! Now get your ugly ass out of my chair and let me work in peace, you can just watch but it’s better if you go away!" He took Gilbert by the shoulders, almost crumpling his black T-shirt with his hands, trying to move him from the chair; but the man was not only taller than he was, but he was also heavier, which made it impossible for Lovino to move him from that place.

"Are you telling yourself you're a princess without me telling you? Woah, thanks sweetie! You saved my breath. Now close your eyes and let me do it!"

"No, forget it!" Lovino leaned forward, giving Gilbert a threatening look that only made him laugh.

"You can't make threatening faces, you're too cute. Now close your pretty eyes and get ready for when you open them, because you'll see the most awesome flowers of your life."

"I already told you I won't close my eyes!”

"Do you want me to do it, placing my awesome German hand on your sweet face?"

"All right, but make it quick! I can't stand the dark" after uttering those words, he placed his own hands over both eyes, gently and in such a way that his sight was not completely impaired. He obviously wanted to see what the dumbass was doing, but he knew he had to pretend to see darkness to avoid bursting out laughing 'for no apparent reason'. Maybe that cocky bastard would have even cut off his finger, but he would have said firmly that he was all right to keep his pride.

A large smile appeared on Gilbert's face, who looked at the large table and stretched his arm on the far side to grab a pair of green pliers.

He touched the stem gently, taking it in his hands and cutting a few too many leaves with a clean and decisive blow and shortening the stem of the flower, making it slightly pointed at the end for a simple aesthetic reason.

Lovino, with his fingers slightly open, saw that surely the guy must have already had experience with flowers. His actions were precise, worthy of someone who absolutely knew what he was doing and was certainly not a novice. This time he was simply proving to Lovino that he was good at something other than driving him crazy or pissing him off.

"Prinzessin, I said you should have kept your eyes closed and not peek through the spaces of your fingers." Lovino’s eyes widened in surprise as henfelt caught by Gilbert, who looked up slowly as he looked the Italian in the eyes, who briefly covered himself with both hands.

"It was obvious I had to look, you bastard! What if you cut yourself?"

"Oh, you're worried about me? That’s sweet" He pinched his cheek slightly, pulling it.

"Don't touch me with those dirty hands! And no, I'm not worried! But if you had risked dying in my workplace again, I would have been the one to pay the consequences!" Lovino once again moved Gilbert's hand from his cheek, then leaned forward and tapped insistently on the boy's chest, laughing amusedly.

"What the hell are you laughing at, stupid! That ugly bruise you still got on your fucking face ain't enough for you to understand?" pointed to the bruise, and Gilbert wrinkled his nose up and touched the spot.

"You mean this awesome bruise? Oh! I did it to save you, prinzessin. This is how you thank me?" he pretended to whine, crossing his arms and turning the other way with a firm step, pretending to be offended.

"Don't call me that! And then, you got that bruise because you got punched four times in Sadik's bar! You didn't save anyone, you idiot" Lovino went from being angry to being resigned, turning his angry growl into a seemingly docile and frustrated expression.

"Oh, I see..." a shadow of disappointment took hold of the German's face, "but now how about we keep fixing the roses? We can have fun!" His smile came back stronger than ever when he gave Lovino the white rose whose stem he had just cut off.

The white colour of the soft petals of the flower, formed a beautiful contrast with Lovino’s tanned face with some redness on it, characterized by small drops of sweat that elegantly slipped from his forehead. If only even the frown had been wiped away by sweat!

Lovino did not answer, but took the glasses he had on the table and then put them on and sat down next to Gilbert, concentrating all his strength and attention on his work.   
Gilbert noticed that Lovino, unlike him, didn't take the whole thing as a challenge. He was simply doing his job without worrying about him or what he would say: he was just there, with his head bent over his flowers and his glasses slightly lowered, his eyebrows wrinkled and his lips rippled, while with dexterity he gave the flowers a finer look. 

The silence filled the room. Gilbert continued his work with care, occasionally distracted by his surroundings. The room was not very large, but very cozy and bright, characterized by light-colored walls and a bizarre yellowed clock that gloriously lay on them, and which also caught the complete attention of the German.

"What the hell are you looking at so carefully?" Lovino looked at Gilbert through his glasses, crossing his gazing gazes with his half-open mouth.

"Oh? Nothing! I was looking at that watch there. I think I've seen it somewhere before" the boy pointed to the watch, and Lovino's head moved in the direction he indicated. Then, he looked back at Gilbert and raised an eyebrow, puzzled.

"It's impossible. My grandfather bought it years ago when he was still alive. It's a rather old antique” Lovino's voice had softened, but he soon returned to his post.

"Oh, I'm sorry for your loss.”

"It’s ok. The bastard died almost two years ago."

"You know, my father's dead too. Maybe a little before your grandfather" a sad and nostalgic smile appeared on his face, capturing the attention of Lovino, who saw the boy's eyes become shiny.

"Don't talk about that kind of shit if it makes you sad, your eyes look like they're ready to explode."

"Oh? No, I'm not gonna cry! We albinos have very sensitive eyesight, and sunlight penalizes us. That's why I wear these beautiful glasses that have special lenses." He forced a smile, pointing with his thumb at the glasses.

"Sure, right."

"Can we change the subject? This makes me feel so un-awesome."

"All right, even if you brought it up," Lovino shrugged his shoulders, respecting Gilbert's decision.

"Man, time has flown by! Gotta go, prinzessin!" He smiled, messing Lovino's birght and wavy hair,which were soft to touch.

"What, did you just see how bad your hair looks compared to mines?"

"Hey! You offend me with this, did you know that?"

"That's my intention, you know."

"Anyway, how about the flowers?" Gilbert pointed to him. They were placed on the table in a row, and he had ordered them by color, the lighter ones started on the left and as you went to the right you could find darker and brighter colors.

"This is good. I think they will pay me well for these." Lovino took a general look at the flowers, which had all been cut perfectly. "You don't really suck at all, bastard."

"Aw, prinzessin! You make me blush if you are like his!" He answered the other, placing his index and middle finger on his lips and throwing a flying kiss to Lovino, giving him a hasty wink. The Italian answered with yet another middle finger, which made the German laugh once again.

"Oh, speaking of paying! I have to pay you for that rose I made you throw away...eheh, what a un- awesome gesture" he approached some coins in front of Lovino's astonished face, which gradually turned into an angry expression.

"Hey! Why are you doing that face?"

"You think I need your fucking money for a fucking rose? Get out before I slit your throat!" He said, pointing to the door of the shop.

"Take it easy! What happened to the quiet Lovino from before?"

"I told him to go fuck himself."

"Oh, I feel sorry for him. Then give me that white rose, that one there. Keep the money."

Lovino was a little confused, but gave him what was required, and hesitantly took the money that had been given to him: Gilbert's face lit up and he smiled slyly.

"Here, it's for you. Since you don’t want the money, I'll give you a flower. The one I fixed with my touch as awesome as the petal of this rose" he made a cheerful puff, passing his index finger all over the petals of the rose. The scent of that flower was sweet and pure, like a child's hug. 

Gilbert placed his hand on his chest, slightly lowering his torso and bringing his arm with the rose to Lovino, giving it to him.

"Will you accept this gift if I give it to you like this?" Gilbert smiled almost softly, and lovino's face was covered with pink patches. However, he could feel that the albino was up to something.

"Oh, Gilbert... thank you. You're so sweet." Lovino's eyes glittered, and he ran behind the table, rummaging through a drawer.

Gilbert raised his head and looked up, tiptoeing around trying to look behind the table to see what was going on back there.

"Here I am, Gilbert. You know, you're such a sweet boy. I really think I've fallen in love with you." Lovino approached the boy considerably, and he gasped surprised. It was his lucky day. He'd have had a good time, and to think all he wanted was a friend.

Lovino moved again with seductive gesture, enchanting Gilbert with his feminine walk. He placed gracefully one foot in front of the other, moving his waist gently and passing his hand through his hair and then emitting a little embarrassed giggle, placing a forefinger on his lips to hide it.

"Oh Lovi, well I didn't know you liked me... in that way..." Gilbert scratched the back of his head and curled his nose, his face turned red.

"Well, come on, I want to tell you a secret..." Lovino moved his index finger, pointing to Gilbert to get closer. He nodded, though a little hesitant, trying to give air to his now flaming red white face, continually widening the collar of his shirt and clearing his voice.  
Lovino placed his hand on the boy's collarbone, approaching his ear which he touched with his lips, soft and silky that made the boy think it was a flower. He got closer and closer, and some words were whispered inside it.

"GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY SHOP RIGHT NOW! I TOLD YOU I DON'T WANT YOUR FUCKING MONEY!" Gilbert felt dazed, his ear was whistling and for a moment he feared he would die of a heart attack. The sweet words he imagined were replaced by a barbaric scream full of rage that sent a few drops of saliva on his ear.

"Hey, I get it!" Instinctively, he covered his ear with both hands, moving away from Lovino and fearing that he would go deaf.

"And what kind of idiot gives a fucking flower to a fucking florist?" Lovino said, feeling a strong sense of deja-vu.

"Why does that sound familiar?"

"Because I bet you've been doing this a lot of times since you've been an asshole!" The Italian thundered, giving a powerful slap to the left cheek of the German, pushing him and making him jump out of the club.

"Ouch! Come on, you fooled me... but, prinzessin, you're smart," he giggled, turning to notice the door closed. "How odd, he didn't slam it this time..." he thought. Maybe it irritated him less than usual?   
He stayed a few minutes staring at the place, noticing Lovino looking threateningly at him through the glass door. Eyes that looked like bloodshot, and his frown had a touch more pissed off than usual. Oh, that was the frown king.   
He told Lovino to call him, but he was quite disappointed and felt defeated when the other did not even answer him but simply lowered the shutter halfway down.

With his hands in his pockets, Gilbert changed started his way home. It was a bit tiring to walk, his ass looked like it was on fire.   
He looked down, worrying about kicking every stone he came across in his path. It had been quite a pleasant morning, and with Lovino the hours seemed to fly by. He already missed him.  
As he was walking at a fast pace, he noticed a strange noise coming from his pockets.

"Since when do I make so much noise when I walk?" He had a puzzled face, beginning to scratch his chin and then searching his pockets with the other hand. He found himself with the same amount money he had given Lovino, followed by a curious note:

_"Don't think you're the only one who uses seduction as a weapon or who can take things out of other people's pockets, you bastard."_

Oh, yeah. That little guy was really good at it, and that officially got the ball rolling. This time he was gonna get to go out with him. He picked up the phone, taking it with both hands and typing a massage with his shaky fingers: 

_"Lovi, you won't believe what I found out! 0-0 Ludwig and Feliciano set up a date in a very special place, and in Ludwig's room I found some very strange toys. We must find out what they are!"_

he sent the message, and the reply was not long in coming. Man, bringing up his brother and Feliciano had worked!

_"Bastard, are you serious?! That asshole won't touch my brother with his pervert toys, if you know any more details let me know and I'll run and kick his ass."_

Oh. Lovino believed it. Gilbert was stunned, but a smile of defiance rose up over his face. He'd done it! He had the perfect excuse to arrange another date.

"Okay, awesome Gilbert... now you just have to do one thing: make their date really happen”.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!! I know, my lateness is unforgivable, but I'm under exams and I'm under a lot of stress with the study. I had already written this chapter long ago but I couldn't find the time to translate it into English. Well, I'm going to post it today! Sadik will have a pretty important point in history, and it seems to be a landmark for Lovino and Gilbert. :)  
> You already know. If there are any grammatical errors, please let me know! :D

It was an oddly cool, quiet night. That was quite rare considering the busy and noisy area where GIlbert lived, and most of the day all he got was the nauseating smell of the disinfectant that was sprayed regularly to clean the streets.

He was lying on his bed with his hands behind his head, while his gaze was upward looking at the white ceiling.  
The window was closed, but the hinges began to squeak a little and the handle kept knocking on the wood that surrounded the thin glass, and this unnerved Gilbert, that only wanted to enjoy that bizarre and unusual calm.  
The boy looked up questioningly, and lazily dragged himself in front of the white window, messing up his hair.  
With a fast movement he opened the window, and the sashes banged on the wall making them bounce, all because of a huge gust of wind.

Gilbert bounced backwards to avoid getting the glass on his face "Hey, be quiet! It's late!" He said as if he was talking to someone, clutching his lips and frowning, even placing his index finger over his mouth while giving orders at the window.

Slow and heavy steps almost tripping over the pajama pants because they were too long, and therefore they ended up under the heels. Gilbert then throw his torso on the windowsill, almost lying on it.  
The cold marble came into contact with his bare chest, contrasting the warmth of his body by creating a cold spot between the pectoral area.  
The moonlight, not covered by any cloud, lit up the room. 

Gilbert felt strangely relaxed, and a cheerful melody resonated in his head. He reached out his arm to grab a cigarette, though not looking away from what was outside the window.  
He placed the cigarette between his thin lips, holding it between his two fingers and sucking the smoke, then tossing it back into the air.

He wanted to throw himself on the bed and write a message to Lovino, but he felt like someone told him not to, he didn't know why. Sometimes he was afraid it would bother him too much.  
That boy was different from anyone he had met before, he had the feeling that he would never get bored with him.  
He was feeling fine. He felt taken into consideration, he had a strong spirit of initiative and above all he could not remember ever feeling as fantastic as he does now.

He made a half smile, holding the cigarette tightly between his fingers to prevent the wind from pulling it out of the light grip.  
He sat on the inside of the windowsill, resting his shoulder on the wall on which the window had been built, and then approached his diary, taking the pen and tapping it on his chin, thinking about how he could write in a few words how he felt.

His feet were getting colder and colder and Gilbert's body had begun to cool down, even if somehow he didn't want to get rid of the clean view of the city: he wanted to keep hearing the rustling of the wind moving the leaves, he wanted to feel the strong, warm light of the grey streetlamp pointed at himself.  
He jumped off the windowsill on foot together, resting his hand to his right, and then jumped on his belly onto the bed still clutching the diary tightly.

His phone’s screen lit up shortly afterwards. Gilbert had probably received a message, but he was almost asleep and his eyelids had begun to sag, making him too tired to get up. He lifted his head up slightly, attracted by the light, but lowered it back down immediately afterwards, sinking it into the pillow, hoping it was Lovino.

_"Dear awesome diary, I'm happier."_

///

"Are you serious? What a situation, that guy really never denies himself." Sadik rolled his eyes and shook his head, laughing, then handed Lovino a glass filled with sparkling water.

"You must really have two balls of steel for putting up with that bastard for years" the Italian hissed, bringing the glass to his lips and then bending his head back and drinking it all in one sip, drying his wet lips with a paper towel.

"No way! It's not that bad."

"I don't know what he came to do, from what you tell me he came to give me your regards but he forgot!"

"I'm always right. It's unbelievable!" Sadik nodded to himself, proud, and Lovino’s desperate voice tone amused him. Gilbert wasn't very hard to understand, according to him. 

It was enough to pay close attention to the guy’s little attitudes to understand his intentions. He had told him how much fun he had with Lovino during the Oktoberfest, he even changed his rhythms and visited the club at night more and more rarely. Gilbert confided to him that sometimes he didn't know how to push Lovino to be with him without forcing him.  
Sadik suggested him to get slightly drunk to use alcohol as an excuse to get close to the boy, but not so much that he lost control. Well, the albino had gone too far, and now the Turk was proudly keeping a nice video recorded with his mobile phone, of two lovely boys sitting on the steps lit by the streetlight. Of course, he wasn't going to tell anyone about it. 

Only God knows what could happen if that footage got into the hands of someone like Francis.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Lovino curled his lip and joined his eyebrows in a frown, giving Sadik one of his best confused looks. The man was truly incredible, and the Italian trusted him blindly. He didn't really know why, but he had the feeling that in some ways that guy reminded him of his grandfather. He had met him a few months after his grandfather's death, and for him it was as if he had never left. He was a very good confidant.

"Nothing, nothing! Mouth sewn up" the Turk answered hastily, joining thumb and forefinger and then passing them over his tight lips. He chuckled, his lips still closed, carelessly rubbing his hands on his apron.

He looked up at the sky, huffing "Anyway, are you going back to Turkey for the Christmas holidays?" I ask curiously, and Sadik nodded sharply, scratching his nose with the hand he was holding the cloth.

"Yes, of course! Like every year. I'll be staying a little longer than expected, although I would have liked to go back to Germany sooner. This year would have been particularly interesting here." He rested his chin on the palm of his hand, looking upward with a dreamy look. He raised his tone of voice pronouncing the last sentence, then glanced over Lovino's shoulders towards the door, raising his head: his gaze was characterized by half-closed eyes and a mischievous smile that seemed to be hiding something.

Lovino turned hastily, but soon found himself looking again at Sadik who continued to look left and right moving only his eyes. 

"Who the hell were you winking at?" He roared the Italian, pointing his thumb at the entrance behind him.

"Nothing, nothing! I saw a girl,"

"You could have told me before, come on!" 

"All right, next time I'll do it." Sadik breathed a sigh of relief, wiping the sweat off his forehead with the cloth.

"Did you just wipe your forehead with the cloth you use to clean?"

"Oh, man! How disgusting!" the Turk hurriedly threw the cloth away with disgust, pressing his lips tight against each other and closing his eyes, trying to forget that the same cloth finished on his face had previously been used to clean the remains of food from the dishwasher.

"I think you should take a break" Lovino turned to him, lowering his head, looking through his long eyelashes. "You really are more fucked up than usual." 

"Break you say? No, I certainly can't!" He gazed at the Italian's proposal, which seemed incredible to him when he said, "I need the money. By the way, speaking of money-“

"The situation is not terrible. Feliciano manages to get on with school, we have a hot meal at the table every day, though it could be better." He took the glass again and handed it to Sadik, wanting it to be filled with sparkling water again. It was Lovino's favourite, he thought it was more thirst-quenching than normal water. Above all, he loved it’s crisp taste, and the feeling of crackling bubbles on his tongue made him cheerful.

"Thirsty today, huh?" He giggled, pouring the water into the glass, careful not to let out a drop.

"But Lovino" he continued "you've got a nice shop, you sell well, how can you have these big difficulties?" The Turk moved a moment away from Lovino, approaching the coffee machine to fulfill the order of a newly arrived customer. 

The Italian nodded distractedly with his head, raising his eyebrows and pressing his lips as a sign of awareness. 

"I use most of the money for the maintenance of my grandfather's house," he sighed, bringing the collar of his white turtleneck over his lips with a shy movement of his hand, trying to hide at least half of his face, which he was sure would soon make visible some signs of sadness.

"Lovino. You have to stop clinging to the past" Sadik laid his forearms on the counter, clutching his hands in two tight fists and carrying them under his cheeks, almost as if he wanted to lift them up. His mouth was slightly open as he looked at Lovino sympathetically, and this also meant that he was extremely concentrated, a hypothesis affirmed by the bright eyes that were fixed on the figure of the Italian, who moved his green irises trying not to meet the Turkish gaze, perhaps out of shyness.

Talking about his grandfather or his problems made him feel weak and frail. Few times he felt that way. He didn't want to convince himself that he didn't have any problems and that he was just being strong: he preferred to have an objective view of the reality of his life, even if sometimes it was a bit more pessimistic than real. Self-pity was certainly not a good expectation, but it was always better than being convinced of something not real.

Lovino began to pass his index finger gently over the entire edge of the glass, running around its circumference. He used it as a means of relieving stress and distracting himself a little from the delicate subject he was dealing with.  
Although he knew he could trust Sadik, he was still careful not to let the collar of his turtleneck drop from his lips, playing with the smooth fabric while his other hand continued to touch the glass, faster and faster.

"Idiot, you think I don't know that? It's just so damn hard I don't think I'll ever make it. I spend a shitload of money every month cleaning up that shithole, and nobody even lives there." Lovino said it all in one breath with his hands in his hair looking down, but the Turk could hear the tone of despair in his voice. 

"Have you ever thought about selling it?" Sadik naively asked without thinking about it.

"Yes," replied the other, raising his head quickly and crossing his curious gaze at the other man, who had come considerably closer to Lovino’s face.  
This reassured him: the Turk was really interested in what he was saying and was really listening to him without pretending to be polite, and this caused a small hasty smile to appear on the Italian's face.

Of course, of course he thought about selling it. But it was so hard for him. His grandfather was no longer there with them, but he wanted to keep his memory alive, even if it meant spending money on money to keep an uninhabited house decent.

The boy then stopped torturing the glass and wrinkling the collar of his shirt, which he brought down by removing it from his face.

"How much money do you spend on maintenance?"

"I pay the gardener, who does the cleaning, bills and taxes to pay certainly do not help" I start counting on my fingers, concentrating "now multiply all this by three, with the expenses of the shop and my house. Of course there are variations, but at least you have a basic idea. I earn well with the shop but it's not enough to cover the cost of two other houses" Lovino explained, beginning to drum with sweaty fingers on the shiny counter, leaving the fingerprints of the fingertips.  
He knew he had to stop because Sadik would get pissed off, but the Turk didn't seem to give us much importance and this reassured Lovino that he needed to relieve the stress once again.

Sadik looked at Lovino with a motherly look. He really wanted to help him, but he didn't know how. But he knew someone who would be able to help him better than him.

The Italian took one look at his black imitation leather watch, noting the time, "Sorry, I really have to go back to the shop now" The Italian said, and Sadik gave him a friendly pat on the ball. 

"It must be difficult, I can understand that. Tell me about it as much as you want and when you want, you won't bother me" he offered, giving him a reassuring smile and watching him walk away.

"Lovino, a moment!" 

"What do you want?" The Italian turned with a curious look, feeling himself called loudly by Sadik.

"What do you think of Gilbert?"

"I think I already told you he's an asshole."

"Come on, I know what you really think of him."

Sadik's insistence and the question, dismayed Lovino. He was simply surprised because he didn't know how to answer them, even he didn't know what he really thought of Gilbert.  
The moment they had met was bizarre and embarrassing, but he didn't mind, nor did Gilbert.  
He was convinced that the boy was hiding something, he was intrigued by him but at the same time he was afraid to try to get to know him, and to ruin everything with his slightly gruffness.  
In his experience, he had learned that people who behaved like him and praised themselves too much were the most insecure.

"I'm not sure. I think it doesn’t suck so much being with him, though. He's damn annoying but I think he's a good person" 

his answer made Sadik smile. He didn't try to get too out of balance, he didn't want to say what's too intimate or what he wasn't sure he was thinking. He knew little about Gilbert and didn't have enough to draw a conclusion.

"Can I go now?" The Italian indicated the exit.

"Sure. Oh hey, good luck." 

"Thanks, I guess" Lovino nodded, indicating that he was about to leave, and the other one curled his lips, waving his hand and studying with his eyes every movement of the Italian, waiting for him to go away completely.

"Hey, you!" Sadik screamed and then slammed his hand on the counter, blowing up the glasses, and pointed to a man who was quietly having coffee sitting at a small table near the entrance.

"Are you talking to me?" The man replied intimidated, pointing at his own chest with his index finger and looking around to see if that was what the bartender had turned to.

"Yeah, right back at you! That guy who was here, did he leave?" Sadik asked. To call a stranger in a formal way? No, it was not part of his way of interacting.

He observed the frightened man clutching his tie around his neck, finding something to use his sweaty hands. He was bald, in his 50s. For Sadik it was paradoxical how a man of that age and experience had felt intimidated.

"Who are you talking about?"

"What, you haven't seen him?" The Turk laid his hands on his hips, still holding the rag with his right hand "the little guy who was here!". With his open hand placed horizontally, he indicated the height of Lovino. While the man, perplexed, did not know to whom he was addressing and above all could not understand how this indication could be useful.

"I don't know who you're talking about, kid."

"Allah, help me!" Sadik raised his head, and puffed waving his arms upwards "at least check if there is someone outside, then" he proposed.

The man nodded hesitantly, and he leaned his head out the door. 

"I don't see anyone" he simply responded in an increasingly low and insecure voice, intimidated by the bartender's big, melodious voice.

"Mükemmel!" Sadik smiled slyly, lifting his thumb and giving him the OK.

"THE PRUSSIAN EAGLE CAN EXIT FROM HIS FANTASTIC NEST, I repeat, THE PRUSSIAN EAGLE CAN EXIT FROM HIS FANTASTIC NEST," he put his hands to the sides of his mouth amplifying the already energetic voice, which seemed to have been screamed out using a megaphone.

A man entered at a rapid pace on the tips of his toes, attracting glances and laughters from customers, who exchanged glances to question the identity of the bizarre milky-white-skinned man covered in a very long black coat and wearing sunglasses, who entered the club as if he were a delinquent.

As he walked, he stumbled on his own feet, falling awkwardly and getting up as if it were nothing, hurriedly glancing left and right noting that he was an object of interest.

"Shit! For once I don't want to be the center of attention, all eyes are on me. but then again, how can you ignore this awesome piece of ass?" He thought it was amusing and flattered.

He took decisive and quick steps dragging himself on the horrible wobbly stool he had always avoided, but this time it was the only free seat near the counter.

He slowly lowered his glasses, then threw a fierce look at the customers, who, having seen his eyes that seemed to be injected with blood, diverted attention from the two boys and resumed doing what he was doing, forcibly ignoring the two. 

He quickly placed his elbow on the counter, and placed one hand in front of his mouth, preventing others with the exception of Sadik, from reading his lips or hearing what he was saying.

"So, is he gone?" He whispered in a mocking voice, approaching Sadik who raised an eyebrow and rippled his lips, giving Gilbert a questioning look with his eyes closed.

"Yes, yes! He's gone! I don't think this whole scene was necessary, however," the Turk tried to refrain from bursting out laughing, swelling his cheeks like a blowfish and pressing his lips against each other again.

"How did you get him to come here?" 

"It's a secret” the other scanned the final word, snapping his tongue on the palate.

"Phew! He's only been here five minutes."

"Yes, he put a sign on the door of the store saying he'd be back in 5 minutes, so he was in a hurry."

"No! Wait, I changed it with the marker and wrote 15 minutes," Gilbert said, mimicking a writing hand.

"Did you really do that? Did you think he could come back and see that he had written 15 and then say - oh, that's nice! Now I'm going back to Sadik-?" Sadik put his hand in front of his mouth. He was about to burst out laughing. 

"Well, yes, actually."

"You're always the same!" Sadik slammed his hand on the counter, laughing his head off and attracting the glances of the customers. He couldn't stop, his cheeks hurt as much as he was laughing and his eyes had even started to cry.

"Hey, stop laughing, it's a matter of life and death! Don't be so un-awesome!" Gilbert waved his hand in front of Sadik's face and took off his jacket, hastily folding it and placing it on his knees, then took off his glasses and put them in his jacket pocket.

"Okay okay, sorry. I'll get right to the point. I have confirmed my hypothesis" Sadik opened his mouth and winked at the German, who looked at him confusedly, even though he felt he knew what he was referring to.

"Hey, man, what are you talking about? You scare me when you do that" Gilbert raised an eyebrow and then started playing with the iron cross he wore around his neck, which fell perfectly into the middle of his yellow shirt slightly unbuttoned.

"I'll tell you later, Beilschmidt" smiled again revealing the dimples, and then pulled a large enough paper scribbled with black marker from under the counter.

"What the hell does it say?" Gilbert took the paper in his hand, lifting it up and bringing it to face height, and then sinking into it trying to see it clearer and to decipher those strange words.

"Hey hey, Alman! Give me that back!" Sadik took back what belonged to him "and anyway, it's written in Turkish" he continued, dropping a smack on the back of Gilbert's neck, which gradually began to blush.

"Ouch!" GIlbert placed his hand on the affected area, rubbing it trying to relieve the pain. "You still haven't told me what's on this map."

"I'll tell you what, I have markers-"

"I get it! Old Turkish fox, you've marked all the sexy shops in the area that sell reasonably priced stuff, right?" He smiled mischievously as he squinted ajar, tapping Sadik's arm with his elbow.

"No, Beilschmidt. I don't waste my precious time with such things" the doubtful expression of the German returned.

"Well, I could have guessed." He said shrugstocking and scratching his chin” I know all those stores."

"If you'd only listen to me!" He said exasperatedly "I've marked all the places where you could set up a double date!" 

"Awesome!" Gilbert smiled slyly "who's going to be there?"

"How who's gonna be there?" Sadik replied, blinking quickly.

"Well, double date! It means there will be 3 other people besides me” he said, lifting three fingers and looking up trying to figure out who it was.

"Oh Beilschmidt! There'll be you, your brother, Feliciano and Lovino!" 

"Huh? Why are you trying to set up a date between my brother and Lovino?" Gilbert raised his eyebrows and wrinkled his forehead, almost starting to chew his lower lip "you offend me! I told you I don't like Feliciano. And above all, the plan was that I would go out with Lovino” he admitted quietly, never looking Sadik in the eye again.

"I know,p" replied the other one, mumbling, "in fact you were supposed to be with him, but I would have told you sooner if you'd just let me finish!" He raised his eyes to the sky, and then shook his head.

"Oh! I see. But I don't remember ever talking about a date." He began to scratch his shaved face, puzzled “actually the real plan was to get my brother and Feliciano out and then tail them with Lovino," he explained concentrated, moving his arms in coordination with his words.

"Stalking? Are you serious? And how are you going to get Lovino if you stalk his brother?" 

Sadik looked at him incredulously with his eyes wide open, interrupting whatever action he was doing. Gilbert, in response, preferred to remain silent with his hands joined over his mouth, looking at the shiny counter.  
Everything was so difficult! He felt like he was the only one who didn't understand anything. He didn't want to conquer Lovino, he just wanted to spend time with him, as he had said many times. 

"I don't want to conquer Lovino! It’s un-awesome to make me repeat the same things over and over again, you know?" He put his arms folded, looking down from above Sadik, who took the map in his hands and reluctantly put it away.

"Too bad. It took me so long to do it." 

"Hey, man, what's wrong with you?"

"What's wrong with you?"

"You know, it's not awesome to even answer a question with another question" he answered with an irritated grimace on his face, mumbling his last words. 

"Sorry GIlbert. You say you don't like Lovino, but the facts say otherwise" Sadik closed his eyes, tightened his lips and raised his shoulders. Gilbert realized that his friend was serious. Not only because of the change in his tone of voice, but mainly because he had called him by his name, which he did not do often.

"What facts are you talking about?" He asked the curious albino, who soon found Sadik's face a few inches away from his own, giving him an austere look and scratching his chin and short dark beard on it.

"You forgot to give him my regards."

"I must have forgotten, sometimes even the most awesome people forget things" he stretched himself yawning, putting his hands together and carrying his arms behind his back.

"That's not the point. You forgot because you were too excited about seeing him” he replied, moving away from him and tightening the white apron lace better.

"Hey, I know where you're going with the speech. But I swear, I just want him as a friend. Yeah, I was into him because he's a funny kid and I'm glad, but that doesn't mean the awesome me has to have feelings. Besides, I've only known him for a short time."  
Gilbert remained the final words, with rigid expression and serious eyes. Sadik had never seen him like that before, and this worried him a lot.

"Lovino said you're a good person underneath, though a bit annoying. He doesn't mind your presence." 

GIlbert grabbed a strawberry chupa-chups from the cardboard pyramid that lay gloriously on the side of the counter, near the cash register.  
He began to discard it slowly with a careful hand and quick, skillful fingers, focusing on what he was doing and ignoring Sadik, who he sighed resigned and then went off to serve his customers.

The German looked distractedly at his friend who had just left, then wrinkled his lips and began to bite the chupa-chups, and entertained himself by looking at the clientele.

He took a 50-cent coin, left it on the counter and made sure Sadik had seen it, and then walked away slightly knocked down, dragging himself away from the place.

Gilbert put his hands in the pockets of his black trousers while wearing a long coat over his shoulder. He watched the asphalt as he walked, his head down counting every stone he came across and his left foot mechanically kicking them away, leaving his path free of all obstacles.

He was fine with Lovino. He felt comfortable, he enjoyed himself, and the hours went by fast when she was with him. He was certainly a very interesting person, full of values and who he would have liked to know better.  
He was glad he was pleased to be here. But then again, who wouldn't like being with a guy like Gilbert?

"I wonder if he really thinks the same about me" he thought.

"There, now he's mad at me!" Sadik puffed, placing his hands on his hips and watching his friend walk away.

"You think I'm forcing him? You think I need to mind my own business? I just wanted to help him! Do you think you should let things develop normally or should I push them? Did I push him too hard? What if I'm just misunderstanding and Gilbert doesn't really like Lovino? oh my god! I just have to do my duty!" He said out loud, all in one breath, not realizing that he wasn't talking to himself but that a colleague had heard him.

"I think you should keep working" The blond man approached him with a tray of pastries to deliver, and Sadik took it promptly, but still with the two guys in his thoughts.

"What about the map with the places on it? What do I need it for now?"

"Keep it. You might need it" the man walked away after responding martially to the Turk.

"Oh Yeah! you're right!"

///

Gilbert looked up at Lovino's shop and a sweet smile appeared on his face, so much so that he felt compelled to enter.

He moved at a careful and quick pace, trying not to make the slightest noise. He had to imagine walking on a cloud or having feathers instead of feet. Yes, self-confidence definitely helped him achieve his goal satisfactorily.

Climbing the three marble steps, he found himself in front of the glass door. He thought that in order to get out and gain an effect entrance, he would only need to place his hand on the handle and  
lower it slowly and then sneak up behind Lovino again and make him tremble with fear.

Still on his toes, he lowered himself trying to be less conspicuous, then closed his eyes to concentrate and lowered the snap handle, not realizing that a little bell was attached to it which rang every time the door was opened to indicate that someone had entered. 

Gilbert found himself there, standing and still squatting. He was too low to be seen from behind the counter, and in a way he thought it was a pity not to be able to look at Lovino's expression.  
But now he was laden, laden more than ever: his feet laden like springs, energy and excitement flowing through his veins. He was ready to jump and scare Lovino once again. It was a close call and his plan would go up in smoke because of a stupid doorbell that he didn't know what it was for, since Lovino was always there and would almost see the customer for sure.

"Boo! Good morning, prinzessin!" He leapt clinging to the counter, and his smiling face was broken by a mug shot straight to the forehead.

"You asshole! You scared the shit out of me!" Lovino was literally jumped with fear "you'd give me a heart attack!” He thundered again, resting his hand on his heart and breathing breathed breathlessly.

"It's hot, it's hot! You'll disfigure my awesome face!" He kept crawling his hands over his face, almost desperate and with sad, panicked eyes. Lovino had been taken by surprise, and instinctively threw coffee at what he thought was a maniac. He was convinced that the door was open for a gust of wind, and had continued to read his newspaper without worrying too much about it. He certainly didn't expect the albino to come in.

"I didn't mean to spill coffee on you, but he thought you deserved it with all this nonsense!" I will rebuke the Italian, getting up and reaching Gilbert in front of the counter, then grab a cloth and pass it through the German's hair, messing it up but drying it distractedly from the coffee.

"But that thing's got dirt on it!" Gilbert grabbed Lovino's wrist, blocking it, and then took it out of the proximity of his head and threw the cloth away “now my awesome hair is even dirtier than before" he whimpered, and incredulously began to run his hands through his hair, wearing the platinum locks in front of his face, trying to understand if they were terribly damaged.

"Of course it's the same one I used to clean the ground! You think I was gonna get a clean one just for you and that cat hair?" Well, on the one hand, Gilbert had it coming. He noticed the way Lovino replied angrily, but his face was bright and hiding a small smile that he was trying with all his strength to repress, and this made Gilbert smile, who for a moment forgot about the coffee and the burns that would soon decorate his beautiful face.

Lovino noticed the boy's reaction, and turned his eyes away from him for a moment and then bent down and started poking around greedily in a small drawer on the other side of the room.

"Here. Use it to wipe your face" he handed it to Gilbert with an outstretched arm, always looking away from him and lips slightly wrinkled.

"Thank you prinzessin!" He grabbed the cloth with both hands, and then wiped his face with a quick movement of his hands.

"So how do I look now?" GIlbert continued, taking Lovino's chin and bringing it closer to his face, and then beginning to frame his face with his hands, first positioned horizontally and then vertically.

Gilbert swelled his chest noticing Lovino's seductive manner, but his confident smile fell when the Italian finished the sentence and realized he was just teasing him, albeit amicably. He hoped it would end in a compliment, but alas, perhaps he would never receive it from him.

Lovino winked at him sarcastically, pretending to be honored by his presence, only to return behind the counter, sitting as if nothing were happening and completely ignoring the confused reaction of the German. 

"Why did you come?" He asked, filling himself a cup of coffee again, since the first one had been lost.

"Oh here, yesterday I forgot to bring you Sadik's greetings", he started scratching the back of his head, smiling embarrassedly and raising just a corner of his mouth.

"No wonder. Anyway, I went to see him this morning. He told me about it."

"Hey! How come we go to the same bar and we've never met?" Actually, it was true: Lovino had had the shop there for a little over a year, and he'd been going to that bar for years. How was it possible they'd never met before? He had no real reason to go to a florist, but he wondered why he hadn't been intrigued anyway.

"Maybe it's because you're going to get drunk at night?" He grumbled, grumbling.

One point for Lovino. Actually, he was right. Lately he used to go there just to drink, but now he was getting Sadik into the good graces of the bar owner, amazed by the fact that the guy was one of the 3 bartenders, the one who attracted the most customers. His good looks were an advantage, as well as his charming accent, but it was clear that Gilbert went there more and more often to have the excuse to visit Lovino, even just to get a kick in the shins and to get some sweet and loving insults.

"You're right, you know? That's why I'm leaving now," he turned around, pretending to walk out the door even though he was moving at a slow pace as he had no intention of leaving, just waiting for Lovino to stop him. But well, he didn't, and Lovino just shrugged.

"Hey!" He turned around again, pointing his finger at Lovino’s, "Don't you stop me?" 

The Italian simply rolled his eyes and emitted a light, amused puff "why should I stop you?". He raised an eyebrow and then looked away from Gilbert, resuming to put on his rubber gloves.

"I thought you were going to ask me about the date... you know, our brothers..." approached Lovino, winked at him, as a grimace from the seductive makeup took hold of his face.

Lovino looked at him with an air of confusion, but then he remembered what he had told him and felt every muscle in his body freeze, even his curl had stopped bouncing.  
The mere thought of his brother purring Ludwig, or Ludwig trying to touch him with those disgusting plastic things of his, made him literally jolt with disgust.

"Tell me what the fuck you found out about that place," he whispered in a slow, menacing voice, and Gilbert couldn't help but smile satisfied. The Italian had grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and brought their foreheads close together, and all that occupied the German's visual trajectory were the Italian's perfectly shaped eyebrows, dangerously wrinkled and combined with his almost grinded teeth.

"Hey, take it easy. What's this abrupt way? You look like a gangster." Gilbert put his hands forward, pulling away from the boy's grip and walking backwards slightly.

"What the hell do you keep looking like a dick? Be serious! If you want to give me accurate information, do it seriously. My brother's the victim, yours is the executioner." The German saw his finger pointed at him, and he was a little surprised to see how Lovino was taking it too seriously. As if Ludwig intended to kill Feliciano or abuse him.

"Man, those two are together. They know what they're doing" his response was not long in coming, and it was perfectly in line with his thinking.

"So what do you want? You're the one who told me we should investigate them!" The boy's angry tone made him realize that he was actually right. Gilbert had been the one who had prepared everything, even thought of passing off as real something that didn't exist just for personal taste, to make his own interest.

And once again, he had meddled in his brother's life by getting in his way, albeit indirectly.

What was he supposed to do now? Go ahead with the scene or reveal everything? No, he would never do that. It would have been counterproductive and it would have gone against his morals. If he starts something, he has to finish it, ugly or beautiful.

"They're engaged, it's normal for them to have sex. You have to get over it." 

"What the fuck are you talking about? It's obvious! It would have been a problem if it was the other way around" he clenched his fists and kept calm. "I'm trying to get over it, I'm just scared for him on one hand." The frown softened, and GIlbert was surprised to see Lovino reveal his little fear. He was happy to see that the boy was opening up to him, albeit slowly and roughly.

"What are you afraid of?" He already knew the answer, but he wanted Lovino to give it to him anyway.

"I think you know better than me that Feliciano is naive, he gets carried away and I'm afraid someone might take advantage of him. That's all" he shook his shoulders, looking at the wooden floor. Gilbert looked at it with different eyes. This boy, who seemed to be extremely grumpy, perhaps a little bit careless, nurtured a great love for his brother and had only one desire to protect him, as he did with Ludwig. He felt himself understood for a moment, and put his hand on Lovino's shoulder to confront him, making the boy next door open his eyes wide with amazement, who was surprised by that sudden friendly contact.

"Oh, so you care about other people's feelings too!" He smiled tenderly, trying to put Lovino at ease, "I thought you were an unbelievably unbelievably bad guy, but instead you're just a caring brother, like me".

"I don't care? Pff!" He puffed, rolled his eyes and crossed his arms "bastard, it's funny to say but I was thinking the same thing about you. But after those things you said to me drunk, I hate you a little less," he admitted, a small smile blossomed on his face and that cheered up Gilbert, who felt he had hit the jackpot. For a moment, he put aside the instinct to rage and go mad wondering what he might have said to Lovino before, but judging by his reaction, it was nothing bad. In fact, he even managed to make himself less hated. Oh, man! Even drunk, he could be a great tugboat.

"Well! Then since you hate me a little less, how about going out with me? As friends!" He immediately put his hands forward, to reassure Lovino in every way that the exit had no ulterior motive.

"No" was a dry answer, and quite unexpected.

"But how! You told me you hate me less"

"That doesn't mean I want to go out with you."

"Then let's make a pact" Lovino refined the hearing "let's go out with Lud and Feli, a friend's date"! That'll convince you that my brother will never hurt your brother."

"I repeat, I do not want to go out with you."

"Come on! If I don't meet your expectations, you can kill me" Gilbert's proposal was tempting, and Lovino was very curious to spend time with him. But at the same time, he had mixed feelings that he was unable to understand.

"Kill you as in I can kill you? I would never be guilty of a crime like that, especially if it was to kill you." He looked down on him, sometimes disgusted, although it was obvious he was faking it.

"No! You can kill me in the sense that you can kick me out and tell me never to show my face again” he smiled, playing the Italian.

"All right! But I really do! And don't think I'm going out with you to actually be with you, I'm just doing it to control those two!" He crossed his arms, and the German laughed noisily.

"Sure, right. So we're going out? Is that a promise?" He looked at him dreamily, eyes shining, and Lovino was almost enchanted. He would have liked to know more about the boy who seemed so interested in being with him. 

Gilbert waved his little finger in front of his face, which Lovino grabbed and squeezed gently.

"Yes bastard, that's a promise."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Turkish words!  
> Alman: German  
> mükemmel: perfect

**Author's Note:**

> I will try to stay consistent and post every Saturday :) tell me what you think with a feedback!


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